Roll Saving Throw versus Hot Chick

"Is double espresso the best you have?" Russell asked, squinting at the menu that hung above the counter.

"Menton," the clerk answered, "You practically live here. We didn't have triple or quadruple espresso last year, last month, or last week, we don't have it today, and I promise you, if we ever do, you'll be the first to know."

Russell grinned, revealing a mouthful of wire.

"Sorry, Gaines. I have to dream. Could I have a cup of epileptic, then? Black."

Mad Tea Party, the campus coffeehouse, had three kinds of brewed coffee. There was regular, decaf, and epileptic, which was marked by a skull and crossbones on the pot, and was made by running the same coffee three times through the same grinds. It had been dubbed 'epileptic' due to its power to give most people who drank it seizures. Russell was convinced that if he drank enough of it, he would gain the ability to phase through walls.The sad part was that he wasn't the only one who drank it. He was, however, the only one who was shamelessly addicted.

"Mark my words, Russell Hermes Menton. Your taste buds will wither before you're twenty."

Russell merely placed his coffee mug on the counter.

"I assume I would also be the first to know if you changed prices?"

"You know it, Menton." answered the clerk, taking up the mug and pouring from the pot with the skull and crossbones. Russell kept his eyes fixed on the mug; it was one of the sort that reveals an invisible picture when the temperature changed, and it never failed to amuse him. Russell's had a TARDIS that faded in and out of view. The clerk finished pouring and set the mug back on the counter just as Russell dug the proper amount of change out of his pocket.

"Thanks, Gaines. Shift change at seven?"

"Menton, you're off today. It's been on the calendar for weeks."

Russell glanced at the calendar. "I knew that."

With that, Russell headed for his customary corner, lugging his coffee and tabletopping equipment with him.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the coffee house, Leverett de Sivane was bored. Bored to *tears*. So bored, in fact, that when the waitress came over to check up on her, the 'how are we doing?' she gave was met with Levy blurting loudly, "I'm bored out of my *knickers*, that's what!"

The service wasn't too good after that.

'I can't believe this,' she thought. 'Another year, another school, just when I was getting settled... now I'll have to start all over again bending over backwards to be nice and guarded and social so I won't be doomed to lonely and possibly scarring formative years.' She blinked. 'Wow, I'm smart today. I must not have had enough caffeine yet.' She waved a little at her very cautious-looking server. After receiving and starting in on her sixth cup of tea with a slow sip, she began wondering if anything could salvage this bleak looking day in a town where she knew absolutely no one.

"Nigel, *why* are you having your barbarian use his battleaxe, there's nothing to attack here!" came an exasperated male voice, floating over to her ears from the very partition she was sitting with her back to.

"I.. I'm attacking the darkness!" came a slightly nasal reply, followed by a wave of muffled snickers and an unfortunate snorting-laugh.

Levy's eyebrows arched slowly, and she got up from her seat, slinging her satchel over her shoulder. Perhaps she'd spoken too soon. With a faint smile, she started over to the source of the laughter, thinking that today might not be so boring after all.

"I swear, Hamilton," lamented the first voice, still sounding somewhat exasperated. "I wish you had never found that sound file. You do this every time."

The owner of the voice was largely hidden behind a three-sided cardboard screen, although occasionally the top of his baseball cap slipped into view above the top.

"You were laughing, too, Menton." answered the owner of the second voice, a late bloomer in desperate need of a hairbrush and some Clearasil.

The game master could think of no reply more eloquent than, "Shut up." There was a sound of rolling dice. "Sterling, roll a Dex check."

A third boy, a round underclassman with close-cropped brown curls, wordlessly complied, rolling the multicolored plastic orbs across the table.

"No problem."

"Hamilton, Davis, you too." Russell decided.

"Menton!" protested the boy who had attacked the darkness, "you know Dex is Booger's lowest stat! What is this for?"

"You're attacking the darkness, right?" Russell answered sweetly, "If you're going to attack the darkness, there's a chance you'll lose your balance when you DON'T HIT ANYTHING, since there ISN'T ANYTHING HERE TO ATTACK, what with your battleaxe being super-heavy and all."

The other two boys rolled; Booger, of course, failed his check.

"Right." Russell announced triumphantly, "Booger swings like an idiot at the darkness, despite the fact that it is day, and the only possible way there could be any darkness is if his helm fell over his enormous eyebrows, blocking his vision. The swing of his heavy axe connects with nothing, causing him to stumble forward and fall flat on his misbegotten face."

"So..." asked the boy who had been addressed as Sterling, "Why did Davis and I roll checks?"

Russell took a swig of his coffee. "Larimar the enchanter and Aramis, cleric of Weejas... I still can't believe the diety of death is named Weejas... who are NOT attacking the darkness, and who are not moronic berzerker dwarves with battleaxes... you passed your check, right, Davis?"

The fourth boy nodded.

"... who are not moronic berzerker dwarves with battleaxes," Russell continued, "have the amazing presence of mind to move out of the way as Booger hefts his mighty weapon, and thus avoid being fallen upon as the ogre falls to the ground."

Nigel Hamilton was just about to complain about certain DMs lacking a sense of humour, but he had forgotten how to speak at that particular moment. He'd also forgotten to blink, breathe, or hold firmly onto his dice, a handful of which were now clattering across the hardwood surface of The Mad Tea Party's floor.

Because approaching their adventuring band was the rarest and most elusive of mythical creatures - a real, live girl. A real live girl *in a short dress*.

Sterling jabbed Nigel with his elbow, "Hey Hamilton, nice fumble. I swear, your dex is even worse than your chara..." And Sterling, too, caught sight of what Nigel had been staring at, and trailed off.

"Good evening, gentlemen," she said, her voice as confident and casual as if she had known them all their lives. "I know you're in the middle of a quest and all, but would you mind if I joined in the game?" She tilted her head a little to one side and grinned, flashing a mouth of white and even teeth, as she clasped both hands around the strap of a rather large brown satchel that she'd lugged over with her.

Both Nigel Hamilton and Geoffrey Sterling were at a loss, and had to settle for making wide-eyed faces with mouths moving silently. Davis had settled for turning scarlet and pressing his lips together as if something hideously embarassing would fly out of his mouth if he didn't force it closed.

Levy stood there and waited for a response, despite the awkward silence, her eyes settling on the one person present who hadn't taken note of her - a rather handsome boy her own age with wild red hair, whose attention was entirely poured into the dice and papers he had stacked behind his cardbpard screen. Everything about him screamed sweet, innocent, and more importantly, single. She remembered now why she didn't hate moving from school to school too terribly much.

Russell, somewhat amazed by the fact that Nigel hadn't begun one of his famous three-hour whining sessions over Booger's fall, rolled his eyes from behind the screen. The last time a female voice had asked to join the party, it had been Geoffrey's girlfriend, whose sole contribution to said party had been to giggle at anything Geoffrey did. The only positive aspect of the entire situation had been that he got to kill the character off when she and Geoffrey split. He hefted an enormous sigh, answering Levy's question in a tone that indicated he suspected the answer was a resounding negative.

"Do you have a character sheet?"

Small wonder that he was shocked into silence when a slim, brown hand dropped a sheet of paper on the table in front of him. He scanned the stats somewhat absently, trying to wrap his mind around the existence of a real, live girl who carried around character sheets, particularly character sheets for rangers.

"Uhhh...." he stammered, reaching the end of the list. "Okay, you guys... uhm... an elf-wench approaches from the east. She has brown hair, green eyes, is wearing... whoah... leather... and..." He whistled. ".... and a charisma of 19. The dice were good to her."

There was no answer.

"Guys," Russell repeated, "I said, an elf-wench approaches from the east."

Still no answer.

Disgusted, Russell half-stood, looking up from the papers behind his screen.

"What is with you guys?"

All three boys remained caught in vapor lock; only Aaron Davis had the presence of mind to raise one hand and point at Leverett, who was still standing patiently to one side.

"What? She has a character sh...."

There were two types of girls who played Dungeons and Dragons in Russell's hometown. There were the girlfriends, who might or might not be reasonably attractive, but were almost certainly there as payback for forcing their boyfriend to sit through "Titanic," and were thusly completely uninterested in the game. The second type was the tomboy, who either had something to prove, hated boys and wanted to kick their behinds, and looked, without exception, something like a cross between Delta Burke and Switch from _The Matrix._ This girl had a character sheet, and so it was the second type of girl he was prepared to see when he turned his head to see what his party was looking at. The fact that Leverett, who was not only of neither type, but was wearing a dress that would have made Calista Flockheart blush, was standing there instead was a bit too much for him to comprehend. He promptly entered vapor lock with the rest of his friends. Leverett was unfazed; she wore hemlines like her current one for good reasons, and vapor lock was one of those good reasons.

"Let me help." She cut in, with another alarmingly brilliant smile. "I believe what you mean to say is, 'Why, Leverett, what an interesting character. You may indeed join my game."

Nigel recovered from vapor lock, and immediately began scribbling at his character sheet. It was this, rather than any personal allottment of willpower, that allowed Russell to break his own brain-freeze. "Hamilton! Stop changing your charisma! Dwarves don't have charisma over about 12 from human perception in the best of cases, and she's elv... NIGEL! I SEE YOU CHANGING YOUR RACE!" He slammed both hands on the table, palms flat, causing the scattered dice and pewter figurines to rattle. "Hamilton, no self-respecting elf anywhere would call himself BOOGER."

Nigel, discomfited, left off attempting to change his characteristics, albiet with a decidedly sour look, and resumed staring at Levy, which he found a more interesting pasttime anyway.

Russell shook his head, muttered something about needing more coffee, turned back to Leverett, and focused all his willpower on -not- looking anywhere below her eyes, which were odd enough in their own right, which fortunately, for the nonce, cancelled out the sixteen-year-old-boy factor. He held out his right arm to Leverett, offering to shake her hand.

"Why, ... Leverett, you said...? ... what an interesting character. You may indeed join my game." He added as an afterthought, "Russell Menton. This is Aaron Davis, and that's Geoffery Sterling... and of course, you know Booger already..."

Levy shook Russell's hand lightly, and beamed in his direction. "Why, thank you Russell! How very nice of you." She reached behind her to pull up a chair, and settled herself between Aaron and the still fidgeting Nigel, who both scooted their chairs to make room with hasty and violent pulling. "So!" she continued on cheerily. "What are we doing today, hmm? Oh, and just so you know, my character's name is Sylvia Whitewillow, and she's.." Levy paused to count on her fingers. "a 6th level ranger. With an enchanted longbow, and a bit of assassin training on the side." She shrugged lightly. "And I don't min/max my stats."

Geoffrey seemed to shrink down in his chair, pulling Larimar the enchanter's stat sheet towards him shamefully.

Another stony silence settled over the boys, out of which only Russell found that he had the wits left about him to say anything. "We're, uh... just about to head into the Chimera's lair, Levrett, if Sylvia would like to scout out the entrance.."

Levy waved one hand. "Oh sure! I'll use my night vision to 60 yards, and use stealth movement to circle around to the fr-"

"Will you marry me!?" Nigel suddenly blurted out, as though he'd been holding the words in ever since he'd started staring at her. His face immediately turned scarlet and he clapped both hands over his mouth.

"NIGEL!" Russell barked, leaning over his DM's screen again, both hands on the table. "Honestly... and you wonder why all the girls at school are afraid of you.." he scowled briefly, and sank back into his head. "S-sorry about that Leverett-"

"Levy," she chimed in gently, propping her chin against one hand as she gazed at him from across the table, eyes half-lidded.

"Levy." Russell repeated, pointedly *not* looking at her directly. "Nigel means well, he just has never seen a double-X chromosome life form up close."

"No problem," the brown-skinned girl purred, smiling a bit. "I'm used to it."

Russell's eyes, despite being deliberately and permanently fixed to the map of the Chimera's lair that he had meticulously plotted out on graph paper, widened slightly.

"Uhm. Yes. Well. Right. Ok, Sylvia, you can see into the darkness of the cave with your night vision. You can tell that the Chimera isn't within your range, as nothing that large shows up, but your elven vision picks up the outlines of five or six smaller shapes hiding just within the entrance. They're about a third of the size one would expect from a Chimera."

Levy nodded. "Probably Kobolds. What are they doing around a Chimera's lair? They aren't smart enough to want to loot it, and they aren't powerful enough to want to kill it for territorial purposes."

The other members of the party, apart from Nigel, who was still having trouble holding on to his dice, began to warm up to Levy a bit, as long as they managed to forget that she was, in fact, a girl.

"Maybe they don't know a Chimera lives there, or maybe the Chimera -doesn't- live there any more." offered Aaron. "How long do chimeras live, Sylvia, you're a ranger?"

Levy turned to Russell, bestowing upon him a meaningful look.

"Do you have animal lore?" Russell inquired.

"Duh, Russell, I'm a ranger." Levy replied, sticking her tongue out at him. "Bihhh."

"I was just -checking.-" Russell retorted. "Roll."

Levy fished some orange dice from her bag and rolled one of the twenty-sided ones.

"Passed, but only just barely."

"Hmmm..." Russell pondered. "Where's Sylvia from? Are there many Chimera there?"

"Not really." Levy admitted.

"Ok. Well, you've heard that Chimera live a pretty long time, and that they aren't particularly migratory. They pretty much stay in one place all their lives. However, since you're never seen one before, you can't tell by the look or scent of the cave whether there is actually one in there or not."

"Any tracks she could check, maybe?" Geoffrey inquired.

"Negative." Russell replied, checking his map.

Nigel, meanwhile, was becoming annoyed with all this discussion. "Are we going to kill the kobolds, or what? BOOGER WANT BLOOD."

"Hamilton," Russell replied, in a flagrant and astounding case of the pot calling the kettle black, "Switch to decaf."

******

And so it went, with the adventuring party and their new elf-wench companion slaying chimeras and generally having a good time of it. By the end of the afternoon, the boys had *almost* forgotten that Leverett was a girl, since no *real* woman with a grasp of Dungeons and Dragons had ever graced their universe before. When it was time for all to head back to the school, however, Levy stood up from her chair, packed away her dice and paper into her overstuffed satchel, and promptly began tugging and shifting the dress that clung to her like a second skin, right there in front of them.

Geoffrey's eyes went wide again, and he almost whimpered. "Guh... I mean, uh, 'bye Leverett! It was really nice meeting you."

"Yeah, bye Levy!" came an almost wistful chorus of farewells from the other players. She smiled sweetly at them and waved the fingers on one hand a little in their direction. "Goodbye boys, I had a marvelous time!" she called after them. This, of course, caused Nigel to have to speed his already hasty retreat, lest he have another outburst.

"So, er.." Russell began awkwardly, as he was still pointedly not looking in her direction from his seat as he tidied up all his maps and dice from the table. "Do you *always* carry an AD&D character sheet around with you, or..?"

"I do indeed," replied Levy brightly, "I practically lived in the coffee house by my old school, and it's a wonderful way to pass the time and all that. I also have characters from a Changeling game, and Whitewolf, and Call of Cthulu- er, wait, no.. I believe he got killed, but from what I understand that's normal." She grinned.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah, well.. that does make sense, I suppose. Anyway, you did a smashing job in today's campaign, I just thought I'd tell you."

"Thanks." The girl's usually chipper voice had dropped to almost a sultry tone.

Russell vapor-locked again. Her hand was on his, her fingers brushing against his wrist lightly. A girl was touching him voluntarily. Before he could stop himself, he looked up. A GIRL WAS TOUCHING HIM VOLUNTARILY AND MAKING EYES AT HIM.

All at once, he raised his other hand, index finger raised, and heard words spilling out of his mouth before he had time to proofread.

"I'm sorry, my cerebellum seems to have fused. What did you say?"

Levy giggled charmingly. "I said 'thanks.' Did your eyes fuse too, or are you just staring?"

Russell hadn't the faintest idea what to say, where to look, or whether the epileptic coffee was about to make him throw up. Perhaps it was the nausea, or perhaps it was the fact that he, much like his friends, had very little experience with real live girls. Whatever the reason, his brain went into overdrive. Levy possessed the double-X chromosome. Levy did not at all act like she had the XX chromosome. He supposed he could have accepted the Dungeons and Dragons bit, but SHE PLAYED CALL OF CTHULU. Either she was unique within her gender, or she was one of THE BLACK WIDOW SPACE ALIENS FROM THE MOVIE 'SPECIES'. Given the state of his mind at the moment and the fact that his memory was stockpiled with old Dr. Who scripts rather than anything resembling reality, he chose the latter.

"Ehr... you're welcome," he answered, trying very hard not to panic. 'Stay calm.' he thought. 'Smile. Keep it natural.' He did a fairly good job of it, considering that his mind was screaming, 'SHE'S GONNA EAT MY BRAIN!'

"I... er... you're welcome to join the game as a permanent player if you'd like." he continued, plotting out a course of action. "... excuse me. I need some more coffee. Will you excuse me for a moment?"

Afterward, Russell never remembered walking to counter. All he remembered was leaning over it, grabbing his coworker by shirt, and pleading through clenched teeth, "Gaines. I know I'm meant to be off today, but /I need to work./ If you need the money, you can have any of my shifts next week... you can have /two/ if you want... but for the /love of God,/ let me back there right now. That girl over there is an alien. FROM SPACE."

Stephen Gaines was taken completely aback. "Er... sure, Menton. Whatever. There was a game I wanted to watch tonight, anyway. It's all yours."

Russell breathed a sigh of relief, exchanging places with Stephen, who left the coffeehouse some minutes later, after gathering his things, and joined his friends to not only watch and discuss the game, but also, after taking note of Leverett, to discuss what a perfect idiot Russell was. Russell, however, was considerably more comfortable with the counter between himself and Leverett, seeing as how she was FROM SPACE.

Levy approached said counter with a raised eyebrow, the same charming little smile still curling her lips.

"I thought you needed more coffee?"

"Oh." Russell answered, still at the height of eloquence, "Well. Gaines there had an emergency, you see, and he had to leave. Fortunately, I work here too, so I'm just going to STAY BEHIND THE COUNTER now, and do coffeeshop employee things."

"Ah." Leverett answered, resting both elbows on the counter and leaning upon them. "In that case...." She paused, pressing her fingertips together.

"In that case...?" Russell repeated, positive beyond a doubt that Leverett was about to pulverise him with a supercharged ray gun FROM SPACE.

"In that case..." Leverett repeated herself, with a little wink, "... you can get me some coffee."

Russell's heart skipped a beat, relieved that his life was spared for the moment. "Coffee. Yes. Ahahaha!" His laugh was high pitched and forced, and it came out so loud that a few of the patrons turned around to give him a look. He cleared his throat. "Of course, seeing as how we are, in fact, in a café. Right. Sugar, cream, decaf, regular? We have some of those exotic foreign blends, if that's what they're fond of on your pla- if that's what you like!" he flinched as he stumbled over his own words.

Levy giggled, her eyes squinted a bit in amusement that just made her spooky Black Widow Alien powers just that much more charming. "You're cute when you're flustered. What's the matter, afraid I'm going to shed my human skin and turn into a brain eating space alien?" She made a mysterious alien wiggle gesture with her hands.

Russell's eyes threatened to pop out of their sockets, and he tried to laugh at her comment in a way that sound natural, however, he was so close to fainting that it came out as a very feeble, "eh heheh... I'llberightbackwithyourcoffee."

Leverett leaned back in her chair, marvelling at just how much she could make this particular young man squirm. "Don't be too long, Russell.." she called after him softly, watching him tear across the floor towards the counter again. 'Ah, the prey darts through the trees, eluding the predator... but *oh*, how desperately it wants to be caught.' she thought to herself as she pulled a small jar of lip gloss out of her bottomless satchel. It was the only makeup she ever wore, because it was the only makeup she ever *needed* to wear. In fact, she was just sneaky enough to be applying it in a slow and deliberate manner just as Russell was returning from getting her coffee.

The next words out of the red-haired lad's mouth sounded something like a small prayer, although Levy could have sworn it sounded like he was saying, "Nyssa, give me strength..!" in a tiny, falsetto squeak. Hands shaking so much that the coffee cup rattled on its saucer, he set her refill down in front of her.

"How much are the refills?" she asked, peering up at him through slightly lidded eyes. Russell began to think of it as the Black Widow Gaze, but he was also beginning to think that he didn't mind the Black Widow Gaze so much.

"Uhh.. ummm..." he knew it a second ago. Heck, he knew it EVERY MOMENT, he worked here! Wait, no. Must not take money from homicidal aliens. "Free!" he blurted suddenly. "Refills are free."

"Then how come the sign says fifty cents?"

"Nono, don't worry about it!" he jumped in quickly, grinning forcedly. "My treat, I insist... after all, I forgot to get your order for what kind you wanted, and.. um.. you know, you were so nice about Nigel proposing to you and all.."

"Really?" She favored him with another brain-fusing smile, lips fully defined by a light shine of makeup. Gah, were they ALL like this up close? Russell wondered how most men got through the day without fainting. He snapped back to attention, just in time to hear herfinishing her sentence. "....isn't there?"

He blinked a few times. "Isn't there what? I'm sorry."

"Isn't there something I can do to pay you back?" she purred. Her hand was on his arm again, and Russell felt as though blood might come gushing out of his nose at any moment. Desperately he searched his memory for something, ANYTHING to help him in this sitation. For the love of God, WHAT WOULD THE DOCTOR DO?

"... .... eehhhhhhh...?" Russell squeaked. The Doctor, who was neitherhuman nor sixteen, had obviously never had to deal with hormones, a fact of which Russell was already aware, as he was quite positive that he himself never would have been able to function as a Time Lord with Nyssa there watching. Then again, he thought, Nyssa was not a black widow alien (despite the fact that she too was FROM SPACE), and would not be giving him the black widow look. So it was true what they said about black widow aliens, they WERE able to sap your will with a mere glance. "Eeehhhhhhhh..." he repeated, eyes flicking to the side for any possible escape. It was then that he noticed something that would have annoyed him in any other situation: Stephen had left a pile of filthy dishes in the sink.

"Dishes!" Russell trumpeted, again causing the patrons of the coffeehouse to look at him askance, "I have to do the dishes!" He scurried away from the counter, once again breathing his little prayer to Nyssa, turned on the faucet, and started scrubbing. Leverett leaned over the counter again, her feet dangling slightly above the floor upon theopposite side.

"Aren't you meant to wash dishes with /hot/ water, Russell?"

"Ah-ha! Yes! Normally you are," Russell answered, "but these are... special... dishes! The heat from the coffee kills all the germs, and we have disinfectant soap! SEE?" He brandished the soap before him like a shield, just in case black widow aliens could be forced to reveal their true forms by the power of disinfectant soap. When Levy remained as she was, he merely squirted some of the soap into the basin, and resumed scrubbing. "Besides, we run them through the dishwasher on hot after we rinse them out."

"I see." Levy answered, tracing an imaginary pattern on the countertop with a single finger. "May I ask you a question, Russell?"

Russell nodded, staring at the coffee cup he was rinsing as though it were the most interesting thing ever created since the dawn of civilization. Must not look at space alien. Want to look at space alien, but MUST NOT look at space alien. The Doctor would never allow himself to be outwitted by a space alien. Of course, the Doctor would never have WANTED to be outwitted by a space alien, which Russell was beginning to realize was part of his problem.

"What was that you were saying earlier, about Nyssa?"

Russell turned the same color as his hair from the tips of his ears to the tips of his shoes.

"Uhhhherrr... I was just.... she's sort of... I meant that..."

Leverett continued just as though the question had only been half-completed, and as though Russell was not stammering like a whore in church.

"Wasn't she one of the supporting characters from that television show, the one with the Daleks...? Doctor Who?"

Russell dropped a teacup. Fortunately, he had the presence of mind to throw himself to the floor so that it landed safely on him, rather than shattering upon the kitchen tiles. He decided upon doing so that it might be a good idea if he were to stay for the nonce, and therefore, that is what he did.

"Y.... es. She is." he answered. "She's from the end of the Tom Baker era, and through a great deal of Peter Davison's episodes."

"I know." Leverett replied. "I used to watch it. Peter Davison is really cute in that cricket uniform."

Russell felt the conversation turning to a subject with which he was familiar, and forgot for a moment that Leverett was really a space alien probably intent upon eating his brain and grinding his bones into food for her alien pet creature.

"I was never really able to get over him playing Tristan on that show about the animals. I just couldn't remember that he was the Doctor, even though Logopolis is one of my favorite episodes of all time..."

Leverett interrupted, eyes twinkling naughtily.

"... because Nyssa came from Trakken, and ended up as a major character for a while. Right?"

Russell turned a bit redder, nodding shyly with his eyes still fixed on the sink in front of him.

Levy giggled. "You're blushing, I must be right.! Well, not that I blame you, Nyssa was very pretty."

He opened his mouth to say something, but his voice seemed to fail him. Now he was even more intent on dish washing, and began to scrub out cups that were already clean. He heard a sigh from Levy's direction, and a faint rustling. Finally, she spoke up again.

"It's late."

Sure enough, the clock was happily ticking away towards seven o' clock, the end of Stephen's - now Russell's - shift, and some other Mad Tea Party employee would be coming along soon to take his place. And deliver him into the hands of the alien that wanted to DEVOUR HIS VERY SOUL. He had to keep stalling until he could find an escape.

"Who for?" he asked in an unnaturally high voice.

Levy paused, sounding puzzled. "...Who for then what?"

"Well," Russell continued talking rapidly, the words a continuous stream out of his mouth. "You said it was late, I was just wonder who it was late *for*, you see... certainly not me! I like the night life. Sometimes I stay here at work *all night*, can you believe th-" he froze. As he had turned to put a clean cup back on the shelf, he caught sight of her, sitting on the countertop, legs crossed and dangling over the employee's side of the counter. She had her cheek rested against her hand as though she had been watching him for some time, that same naughty glimmer in her eye. As he remained there like a deer in the headlights, she hopped down lightly and moved towards him.

This was it, he thought. He was going to die. Please, God, make it swift and relatively painless.

Leverett put her arms around his shoulders and drew him into a hug. "Thanks for the free drink," she whispered in his ear. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

Russell could only nod, his face now a uniform shade against his hair.

She released him then, and climbed back over the counter quickly, picking her bag up off the floor and slinging it over her shoulder. "Bye, Russell!" she called to him cheerily as she head out the door and exited the Mad Tea Party.

Russell, meanwhile, remained frozen in the same place he'd been when he made eye-contact (and other-contacts, but that goes without saying) with her. He had skated the edge of Death itself. And he had really, REALLY enjoyed it.

****

Some time later, well after dark, Leverett was crossing the courtyard of the school when she beheld Nigel Hamilton walking toward the library, and took him completely off guard by tapping him on the shoulder.

"Levy!" he gasped, flushing pink. "Do you go to this school, too? I mean, I know you were at Mad Tea Party, but sometimes people from off campus go there, and if you go to this school... will you m..."

"Nigel." Levy interrupted. "This is important. Can you tell me which dorm Russell is in?"

Nigel fidgeted, attempting to call in some of his dwarven berzerker stamina.

"I'm not supposed to tell you."

Leverett blinked, startled for a moment, then smiled the sweetest smile she could draw from her repetoire, leaned over, and kissed Nigel lightly on the tip of the nose.

On the one hand, Nigel thought, one of his best friends had asked him, in a very real panic, not to tell Leverett his room number, should she ask, as he believed that she was a Black Widow space alien, a theory that Nigel actually supported, and that she was going to eat his brain. On the other hand, an extremely cute girl in a short skirt had kissed him on the nose.

"Ellett. Third floor. First right. 302."

"Thank you, Nigel! You're a dear!" Levy called, already dashing across campus, satchel swinging behind her.

"She called me a deaaaaar." Nigel murmured to himself, swaying back and forth on the walk, a decidedly brain-dead cast inundating his face. 'I'm sorry, Menton,' he thought. 'I was never one to hold out under torture.'

His legs turned to jelly, and he, much like Booger, fell flat on his face, where he chose to lie on his stomach chewing his cud. 'Maybe,' he thought blissfully, 'if she eats Menton's brain, she'll come for /me/ next.

Leverett took the steps up to Ellett Hall room 302 in twos, the massive caffeine rush of the tea she had been drinking in her own dorm room giving her the ability to make great leaps without feeling tired. Well, not until tomorrow anyway. She had spent several hours in her room, deciding what she would say to Russell when she saw him, and how she should act. Quite frankly, she still wasn't too sure about this. After all, she had only met him this afternoon, and what she was about to do was a very big step that could change their lives... as she approached the third floor, she found her steps had slowed from overthinking the matter.

'Don't be a pansy, Leverett, just go and knock on the door,' she thought, straightening up and lifting her chin a bit. She knocked on the door to room 302.

There was a moment of silence, and then a few stumbling noises and a loud bang. The voice on the other side of the door grumbled muffledly, and finally the latch clicked to undo the lock.

Leverett was met with the sight of the same red-haired lad from that afternoon, his hair still more or less restrained by its tiny ponytail, though sleep had freed most of it in random flyaways. His eyes were open to about the width of a micron, and even in the dim, half-lit hallway, his brows were furrowed into a squint. He was shirtless (Levy admitted to herself was certainly no strain on her eyes in this case) and... a pair of boxer shorts sporting a colorful TARDIS motif. Of course. He leaned one arm on the doorframe, forcing his eyes open one molecule at a time, trying to determine just what he was looking at. Finally, he spoke, though it was less than eloquent.

"Hunh?"

Levy took a deep breath, "Listen, Russell, I-" she paused. "Are you quite all right?" Russell was sliding down the edge of the doorway, unable to hold his weight on his feet.

"C.. ca.. feen.." he burbled weakly. "...would you prdin meea sec'nd.." his speech came out as a series of slurs.

"Oh, right.. sorry!" she replied, grinning. He waved at her feebly to come in, which she did, closing the door behind her. She of all people could respect the plight of the caffeine addict. She just had never seen one get so bad during withdrawal. She made a note to herself that she ought to teach Russell how to sleep while completely wired.

Russell shuffled across the room and leaned down, fumbling near-blindly for something in the small fridge nestled next to said desk. Finally, he produced a two liter bottle of something which Levy assumed must be his fix (the room was still dark, lit only by the soft grey glow of Russell's computer's screensaver) and began to chug it down at full-speed.

Levy watched with wide eyes as more than three-quarters of the liquid vanished. When he was finally satisfied, he set the bottle down with a deep sigh, rubbing his eyes a bit. "Now then... um... you wanted something?" he asked. He turned to face his visitor who had til this moment been too out of focus to identify, and for what seemed like the millionth time that day, he froze in place. The Black Widow had discovered his hiding place, and she was here to finish him off where no one would see. His eyes got so wide that his russet irises looked like pinpoints in the center. She was walking towards him, and then she was only an inch or two away, gazing up at him through pale green eyes that shone like gems even in the dull light. He tried to scream, but a very tiny, whispered syllable was all that would come out.

"....help."

"You certainly need help, Russell, I won't dispute that." Leverett agreed. "How you can drink that filthy soda slop at all, much less all of that at once, is beyond me. At least you admit that you need help. That's the first step of solving the problem, you know. You definitely need help, but it's going to have to wait until I've finished with you."

"AAAAAAAAAAAH!" Russell yelped, backpedaling so rapidly that he knocked his head soundly against the metal frame that held the top bunk aloft, hit the equivalent frame on the bottom bunk with the backs of his knees, and lost his balance, toppling over to land squarely upon his back upon the bottom bunk, with his legs hanging over the side. He was, at the very least, comforted by the knowledge that even the Doctor had once died by hitting his head against something. Levy was face to face with him again before he could think of anything else, leaning over him with one of her arms on either side of him. 'My God,' he thought, 'I'm cornered.'

"AHHHHHHHHHH!" he repeated, unable to think of any better way to sum up the situation. There was a rustling from the top bunk, and Stephen Gaines rolled over without opening his eyes, though he muttered sleepily, "Good God, Menton... shut up... it's just Everquest, for Pete's sake..."

Russell whimpered, having expended his array of vocal weaponry, and covered his face with his hands. He was going to die now for certain, he surmised, and he simply hadn't the strength to look Death in the eye again. He was also having an exceedingly difficult time forgetting that Death was, in this case, a black widow alien... and an admirable example of her species... and that she was almost on top of him.

"Are you quite finished?" Leverett inquired, tilting her head to one side. "Because if you are, I'd like to get on with it."

Russell whimpered again. "Go on then, get it over with."

Leverett took a deep breath. 'Spit it out, Leverett,' she told herself, 'you've come a bit too far to back out now, might as well have it in the open.' The words spilled out of her mouth all in a rush, much as Russell's had earlier in the evening.

"Willyoubemybestfriend4-ever...that'swiththe4...Ididn'tthinksothat'sfineI'lljustbegoingnowthankyouforyourtime."

With that, she got up and headed for the door, walking as fast as she could.

Russell parted the first and second digits of his left hand, blinking after Levy through the split, his single visible eye visibly colored with confusion.

"Come again?"

She paused at the door, hand on the knob. Taking a deep breath, she repeated herself. "I said, would you be interested in being my best friend 4-ever, that's with a 4 so it's not so common sounding, you know, and I didn't think so, that's fine, I'll be going now and thank you for your time." She didn't look up - in fact, she looked a bit pink in the face as Russell had earlier that day.

Russell blinked. And blinked. And finally managed to spring to his feet, rushing forward as Levy turned the knob to make a hasty retreat from his room. "Wait, wait, hang on a second, don't *leave*!" She looked up athim, biting firmly into her lower lip and generally looking quite distressed, something that Russell found unbearable for whatever reason. He started to speak, stopped, and chuckled softly, if not a little nervously. "I'm sorry, you'll have to forgive me, I'm... still a bit confused. I don't suppose you'd care to clarify?"

Leverett looked down at her feet, which had suddenly become very interesting somehow. "Don't get me wrong, I mean.. You certainly are terribly cute, whether you realize it or not, and I *was* going to try and seduce you and all..."

Russell interjected with a squeak of terror, edging away from her.

"But not now!" she went on hastily, making a grab for his arm to keep him from escaping. "It was so *strange*, I started talking to you, and I found out I was having a really nice time without having to try and get you in the sack. And so I started thinking, 'Leverett', for I tend to refer to myself in the third person when I think, 'this has never happened to you before. You'd best not let it get away, you have to do something about it *this very night*.' And I've never really had what one might call a best friend, so I thought maybe you would be interested in one of those hanging-out, non-having-sex relationships I keep hearing about." She paused for a breath, giving him another mournful look with her big, green eyes. "But, you seem to be rather terrified of me for some reason, so I guess that means no, so I'll be going now."

"Waitwaitwaitwaitwaitwait!" Russell babbled, waving both hands furiously. If he was hoping to keep Levy's attention until he aligned his thoughts in the proper order, it worked; she waited patiently for whatever enlightenment was to follow the endless string of 'wait's.

Russell raised one hand to his forehead as if doing so would kick his brain into cooperation. Finally, he removed it, pointing the hand at Levy.

"Let me see if I have this straight. You were going to seduce me and eat my face?"

Levy blinked. "Well, not the eat your face part."

"Finefinefine..." Russell agreed, waving the hand again. "... but you had a better time talking to me, and so you came to ask me if I would be your best friend 4-ever."

"Yes." Levy answered, thinking that summed up the situation rather nicely.

"With the '4.'" Russell continued, making certain he had heard that part correctly.

"Yes." said Levy again, rather impressed that he had heard everything properly in the mass confusion.

"...and you will never," Russell finished, "under any circumstances, ram your ovipositor down my throat and lay your eggs in my chest?"

"My, Russell, that's vivid." Levy gasped, eyes widening in horror. "You have entirely too much time on your hands."

"Just answer the question, Levy." Russell pleaded.

"Of course not!" Levy insisted. "I haven't even /got/ an ovipositor, and even if I had, I certainly wouldn't... what you said."

Russell considered, weighing the evidence, and wishing he had imbibed the entire bottle of Jolt, which would have made him 66.6666666 and endless repetitions more alert. Finally, he arrived upon an answer that he desperately hoped was the correct one.

"Yes."

"*Really*?" Levy's face lit up. "You mean it? You're not just saying that so I'll go away, though, are you? Because I was going to leave before you stopped me-"

"Nono, I really mean it!" Russell said quickly. "If you're not a parasitic creature from another planet, then there's no reason why I shouldn't." He smiled weakly, as even his large dose of Jolt was not enough to keep this conversation from tiring him. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck and feeling a bit embarassed about his Black Widowalien theory, now. "Sorry about the alien eggs thing, by the way," he added, extending his hand.

Levy seemed to have thoroughly forgotten about that comment from only seconds before. "Wha? Oh, no problem whatsoever! You never can be too careful." She beamed, grasping his hand, though she didn't shake it. "Come on now, Russell, best friends 4-ever don't *shake hands* - Give us a hug!" With that, she used her grip on him to yank him over to her, and she embraced him so tightly he feared he might lose all the Jolt he had just consumed.

Russell made a strained 'oof' sound in reply, patting her on the shoulder lightly.

She released him a second later, still beaming. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay? I heard the principal of this school is really strict on curfew."

Russell glanced over at the clock, which prominently displayed the time - one-thirty a.m. "Oh... pits!" he exclaimed, slapping a hand to his forehead. "You're right, I totally lost track- you'll be in serious hot water if you get caught going back now." Had it been anyone else, he would have told her to stay the night, but he was sure Gaines wouldn't believe what really happened for all the coffee in Columbia.

Levy snorted, waving a hand in dismissal. "I'll be fine. You'll see me tomorrow, and not a soul will know where I've been." She openened the door slowly, stepping back out into the hall. "Oh, and Russell?"

"Yes?"

"Nice boxers." She flashed him a grin, and with that, she was gone.

Russell took a full minute to digest the comment, after which time Levy was, of course, long gone, and blushing about it was perfectly useless, which is not to say that he didn't do it anyway. He exhaled slowly, wondering whether or not it would be worth it to finish off the Jolt, decided against it, as he still had to sleep, and turned around to find his roommate sitting upright upon the top bunk, staring at him reproachfully.

"Menton. Are you out of your mind? /That/ girl was trying to seduce you, and you /didn't let her/ because you /thought she was an alien?/"

Russell shrugged, ducking his head to crawl back into the bottom bunk, where he had been having a peaceful, if uneventful night of sleep before Levy knocked on his door.

"Gaines, Levy is my best friend 4-ever. With the 4. I shall be terribly upset if you're implying that best friends 4-ever should try to sleep with one another."

Silence. Russell pulled the blanket up to his chin. He was just about to nod off again when he heard the upper bunk creaked, and opened one eye to see his roommate's head, upside down, regarding him from above.

"All right, then." Stephen said seriously, "If she's your best friend, and you're /not/ going to ask her out, then... dibs on Levy."

Russell pulled the blanket over his head, and went back to sleep.