Poker Night [closed]

[Joshua Bernstein]

"It isn't a disaster at all." Josh returned, emptying his cup and staring at the bottom sadly. "Drats. I broke it." He sighed before pouring himself a refill. "Although it would be better if these cups refilled themselves but I hear self-refilling cups are expensive so you're forgiven."

True, the night had gotten off to an awkward beginning, but that didn't mean that the entire evening wasn't salvagable. After all, they had alcohol to smooth things over -- and donuts and cookies! And whatever everyone else had brought; he needed to explore the rest of the food unless he wanted his dinner to consist entirely of beer.

Riley wandered away without actually answering his question about the dish he'd brought, but Josh's attention was already on Anya and Clarisse and he hardly noticed.

"So you work at Hammel with Sean and Dr. Prideaux?" He queried, as if he didn't already know the answer, "I'm surprised so many employees of the Institute were....know Mr. Weaver and Ms. Gold." Particularly when they were new in town and Cobalt shared his view points on how Hammel operated! But Leila was actually the one who organized this, he reminded himself, although she knew how Cobalt felt just as well as he did -- in fact, probably better, as she was his intern and had known him longer. Still, he couldn't exactly complain as this meant that Sean had been invited, and he had enjoyed his previous conversation with Clarisse. The jury was still out on Anya, but she came with a strong recommendation.

He flinched guiltily at Sean's telepathic reassurance. Sorry. I know you wouldn't. If he were to be completely rational he knew very well that his best friend would never betray his secrets, but there was a part of him that was definitely not at all rational when it came to some what would, in his mind, involve displaying a level of vulnerability hew wasn't comfortable with.

"Don't listen to him," He interjected at Sean's warning to Clarisse, "If you get him drunk we can switch from poker to karaoke." He glanced toward Leila's iPod, no longer playing the offensive (catchy) tunes of Lady Gaga. "Although I suppose Rachmaninoff isn't the best music to karaoke to...unless we just make up lyrics. That is always a possibility."


He slowly drew out his wallet and passed it over to his friend, "Playing singles with you is hardly fair." He complained, "but I know where you live so don't think I won't be back for that."

He looked around at the other members of the party. Anya had already admitted she didn't know how to play and Leila had bailed. So that left himself, Sean, Riley, Clarisse and Cobalt and he had a sinking feeling that only he and Sean knew how to play. Fantastic.

"I think perhaps we should at least get food before starting," He suggested, refilling his beer. Again. He had already lost track of how many this was, but he didn't care; beer was always the cure for awkward situations. Granted, sometimes beer caused awkward situations but that could be rectified by more beer. Preferably without the company of whomever the original beer drinking had caused problems with.

He set his cup down on the edge of the table, diving for the plates; he could eat and play poker at the same time, but it would be more difficult to play poker while fixing plates of food. "So, let's see what is available for dinner." He mused, loading up on everything without much thought. It was all going to be delicious, he was sure.

[Clarisse Prideaux]

Clarisse laughed and managed to get in her reply before Riley stalked off to make new friends.
“Chatty? Please. That’s not a bad thing. It’s a party!” She exclaimed squeezing his arm in a friendly gesture before he went off. “The pleasure is mine.” She added politely, turning her attentions back to the conversation that actually concerned her. While she wouldn’t mind talk with Riley about his chips and dip…it really wasn’t her social forte.

In fact, Clarisse wasn’t really a social creature outside the realm of the scientific conventions she’d been to in order to share her work. She wasn’t anti-social, just…subdued. In a sense. She didn’t like to make a huge scene, and though she loved the company of others, she preferred sitting back, drinking wine, and having a quiet laugh. Besides, if things got too crazy she was likely to break things. That was the majority of the reasoning behind her sparse, careful drinking…but it didn’t stop her from wanting to get others drunk.

“There is a first time for everything, Dr. Neville.” She teased, flicking his cup of wine with a tinkling laugh. She tilted her head at Josh’s comment, looking incredulously between the two of them. “I…Sean!” she exclaimed, laying a dainty hand over her heart. “You sing when you’re drunk?” Grinning-- something the usually straight-laced French woman rarely did-- Clarisse reached for the bottle of wine. “Well then let top off your drink!” She said with a laugh.

Rather than doing what she said she was going to, Clarisse finally poured herself a cup of wine, swirling it absently as Sean asked about the status of the card game. She blinked and looked around, Anya admitting she didn’t know how to play. The brunette had a vague grasp on rules five card stud (thanks to a fellow staff member), but wouldn’t consider herself a wiz. Clarisse chuckled at Sean’s joking request for wallets…simply because she knew she’d probably be handing over her pocketbook. “I don’t suppose playing poker with a Telepath is any fair.” She said, taking a sip out of her cup.

Clarisse reached over and pat her trainer on the shoulder. “If we play doubles I’ll hop on board with you, Anya.” She said. “I think between the two of us we can manage to hold our own…Good thing I didn’t bring much money.” She said with a roll of her eyes. Clarisse wandered in the vague direction of the food as Josh nearly dove upon it, her expression awfully stony as Anya brought up the death of the senator. She figured the other woman and Sean were having an underlying conversation in all of it, but it was still disconcerting to even think it mattered to the two of them…meaning the school could possibly be involved.

She sniffed a bit and shook her head, taking another drink of wine. “A real shame. Especially with the incredible publicity its getting.” Clarisse said somberly. “Poor man and his family…they ought to just leave him alone.” She murmured, tapping her lips before grabbing a plate. She looked over her shoulder at Cobalt and Riley.

“Can I get you gentlemen anything while I’m over here?” She inquired sweetly.

[Riley Adams]

He was mighty glad Cobalt hadn't ignored him and gone into a screaming frenzy with the dip offer and was even more glad that the man even complimented him on it. He was grateful for his smatter of facial hair that covered a good portion of his face, not showing when he blushed.

"Oh thank you." He replied. "I'm a cheese addict. I usually make my own recipe for cheese based cooking. My sister joked that I could make a book out of all the cheese based recipes I've ever made but I've never written them down so I kind of think that's moot." And there he went into a babble. Again. He really should get that fixed.

The compliment coming from the youngest in their group made Riley blush even more. "Thank you. I kind of have to. I live by myself and my income doesn't allow me to eat out every day." Curbing his babbling, he didn't mention that his mother had forced him and his sister to cook when they were younger just so they wouldn't have to depend on their mother too much. He actually grew up loving to cook while Janice made it a point to visit her brother on the days she was just too cheap to eat out.

After promising the girl to write what little memory of the ingredients he had put in the dip down, Riley's attention was veered once again towards the dark haired man standing a bit too close to his former schoolmate. It was hard not to, really. Because let's face it, Riley knew he was at least physically attracted to the other male and knowing he belonged to someone else kind of screwed things up. Especially if that someone was a person he had kind of admired back when they were still students at Hammel.

Shaking his head of those thoughts, Riley turned just as the pretty French lady asked him and Cobalt if they wanted anything. "Oh no, thank you very much. I'm quite okay." He turned to Cobalt and grinned sheepishly. "Do you know how to play poker, Mr Weaver?" Out of politeness, Riley addressed Cobalt by his last name.

[Cobalt Weaver]

Riley seemed nice enough, albeit entirely too enthused about cheese for Cobalt to know what to do with. Also, he seemed to babble when he was nervous, which was nice for Cobalt because then he didn’t have to talk too much. Which was always a safer choice. He was about to ask what Riley did for a living when he noticed the other man’s attention being drawn to the rest of the group. Namely, Josh and Sean. Cobalt raised an eyebrow, wondering what the story was there. And whether or not he really wanted to know.

“So what do you do, Riley?” Cobalt asked, finally deciding that it was really none of his business. “I mean, I know Josh and I’m fairly certain everyone else here works for Hammel,” He tried to keep his voice neutral, but it was pretty hard to hide a lifelong distaste, “But I don’t know what you do.” He stared at the table, realizing that one, he was thirsty, and two, there was nothing here but alcohol and some soda he didn’t even like. Great. Deciding to play it safe, he poured himself a cup of soda, and nervously pondered the potential consequences of having this much alcohol at this party.

Still punched with nerves (and made even more uncomfortable with the possibility of having a roomful of drunk individuals in his home), when Clarisse asked them if whey wanted anything, Cobalt turned too sharply to answer her and spilled his half-a-cupful of soda on his shirt. Oh, excellent.

“Shit.” Cobalt cursed under his breath. He rarely swore, but he figured this situation merited it. Rubbing his forehead, he turned to Clarisse with a sigh and a tired grin, “No thank you, I’m fine.” He grabbed a handful of napkins from the table and wiped violently at his shirt. “Well,” he sighed, looking up at Riley, “No, I don’t know how to play poker. I don’t really go for card games, I don’t have the patience for them.” He quirked an eyebrow, “And you can call me Cobalt. People already think I’m older than I am, I’d rather not encourage the impression.” He grinned at Riley and stared at the table again. He was still thirsty, and some of the alcohol came in cans, which weren’t quite as spillable, and he was kind of offended at the stupid soda at any rate. With his better judgment uneasy, Cobalt took a can of beer held onto it. It made sense that he should drink. People drank socially all the time. He didn’t really like it, and he hadn’t had a beer in a rather long time, but it would probably calm him down a little bit, and after all, he was the host. Ostensibly. It was only polite that he join his guests in drinking.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“I’ll get you a self-refilling cup for your birthday,” Sean told Josh and then he smiled. “Or maybe one of those hats that can pour the beer directly into your mouth. How about that?” The thought amused him.

“Don’t tell people that,” Sean whispered to the other man, as he sipped from his cup. “You’ll give them ideas for the next Christmas party, and nobody’s eardrums can handle that. The psychiatrist then offered Clarisse an apologetic smile. “I don’t sing, and I couldn’t carry a tune if it had handles.” Puberty hadn’t been kind to his vocal chords; prior to puberty, he’d had an angelic singing voice used primarily for church choir. But he’d stopped singing in church long before he stopped believing, primarily because his voice had the ability to transform hymns into sins.

“Josh and I can teach anyone who wants to learn,” Sean offered, not thinking twice about volunteering his friend for this task. He also had a sinking feeling that they were the only ones here who knew the game, which prompted the question, why would Leila invite them all to a poker party, and why would everyone attend, if barely anyone knew the game? “It’s remarkably easy once you learn the basic rules.” Unlike pinochle which was far more complicated. There were shorthand games of poker, some of which involved no player decisions apart from betting; those were the games that had become popular enough to prompt the so-called “World Series of Poker.” The telepath took Josh’s wallet and slid it into his trouser pocket and then gave Clarisse an expression of feigned hurt. “Are you suggesting that I’d cheat?” He was used to Josh’s protests, but they were meant in jest; after all, his friend still spoke to him and played the game, which undermined any belief that he cheated. Considering the fact that, aside from Josh, his poker buddies consisted of a man with superhuman perception, a man who could control minds, and a man who always had luck on his side, his telepathy – even if he did cheat, and didn’t – wasn’t much of a leg up.

“We’ll play doubles against you and Anya.” He was enthusiastic about that possibility. “And perhaps Cobalt and Riley will be our third team.” Or perhaps not, since Cobalt then admitted to not having familiarity with the game. “Well, there’s always charades.”
While Josh and Clarisse meandered over to the refreshment table, Sean heard Anya’s thought, coupled with her story about the senator’s passing. He’d seen the story and he’d wondered, as he always did when politics were affected by freak “accidents.” He projected back to her, More than likely. It fits with his M.O.

However, for the sake of the party, he recovered from the sobering thought and turned to look at Clarisse, just as she offered to make plates or bring refills. “If you could fix me up a small plate, you’d make my night.”

[Anya Vasiliev]

Anya smiled as the warmth of the wine filled her and chased the cold away. Nursing the mug in her small hands, she, likewise, moved to the table with the food on it. "I'm happy to prepare anything extra, providing our generous host doesn't mind me stealing away to the shops and taking over his hob." She smiled, giving her student a large, bright smile. "There's nothing that brings people together more than sharing good food and good drink." Indeed, often Anya's mother had tables full of food, and people often became rosy cheeked and the life and soul of the party - though Anya had a hunch her dad's vintage wines and tequila shots had some part of that.

"Yes, I'm a Hammel trainer." She responded to Josh brightly, delicately plating up her shrimp salad, hair pushed behind her ear. "I'm more the stick than the carrot, admittedly." Anya said with a laugh. "I believe discipline is the way to produce good, safe members of society. But enough about me, what is it you all do? I know of Clarisse's job and of Sean's, of course." Turning to Clarisse, the young woman offered up a forkful of the salad, head tilted. "Please try it, I tweaked the recipe but I'm not sure if it's a winner."

Bustling back and forth, Anya paused at the mention of poker again, and laughed. "I think I prefer Josh's suggestion of karaoke, I'm a far better crooner than a card shark." Tutting softly at Cobalt's mishap, the woman offered more towels. "Would you like me to dampen a cloth, Cobalt? Some stains are pure evil to get out."

Enjoying her role alongside Clarisse as temporary waitress and general motherly figure, the petite brunette stood with her fingers reaching towards Riley's nacho sauce and dipping again, a satisfied smile reaching across her lips. "I haven't brought any cash, just my card... but perhaps my offer on the table should be my cooking services for a week. Breakfast, lunch and dinner."

At that, the Russian woman fell silent, listening to the various conversations around the room and pushing her toes to the end of her shoes in a thoughtful, self-conscious manner. It had been a while since she had been a part of such a large gathering, not since last year's Hammel Christmas party, in fact.

[Joshua Bernstein]

"A beer hat? Just for me? How thoughtful! Make sure it's something classy I can wear to work."

Sean had warned that Anya was stern, but he had a difficult time seeing it himself. She was petite and pretty and very polite and seemed to be quite sociable, despite her recent soaking. Perhaps if he saw her in a work environment she would come across as more serious, but as it stood he rather liked her and couldn't imagine her as the strict school marm Sean (and herself) were making her out to be. "Really! I imagine dealing with students must be difficult. I've heard stories from Sean and I do not envy any of you that job."

"You would deny your coworkers the chance to hear your singing? That's cruel. See? Your coworkers agree." He grinned as both Anya and Clarisse backed him up on this suggestion. Not that he would come out all that well in a karaoke competition, either; his voice wasn't terrible but he was far from being a musically inclined person beyond listening to it on the radio.

He didn't mind teaching other people how to play poker, but only if that meant this was going to be a regular thing; he had planned on a nice, relaxing social outing and as far as he was concerned that did not include teaching. "No, we won't, we'll tell you lies and teach you the wrong way just so we win more." He contradicted, although he was pleased that Anya and Clarisse had agreed to play despite admitting to not knowing the game. Poker and the nostalgia associated with that game had been, along with socializing with his new friends, a large part of the draw of this party.

"Can we auction off those cooking skills? So long as you cook in your kitchen and bring the food over, I don't even know if my oven works." Nor, for that matter, did he own most of the utensils that would be required for cooking decent meals, but the idea of having a personal cook for a week was appealing. Then again, he would have to actually take time out of his schedule for said meals, which was less acceptable.

He wandered back over to Sean and Anya, setting his plate down on the counter rather than hold it while he ate. "So have we made plans or are we still discussing how Sean and I are the only people who have any chance at winning at poker tonight?" He asked his beer, but no answers were forthcoming from that direction. He sighed and leaned against the other man, deciding that he was more comfortable than the wall and held out a chip enticingly, "This dip is excellent! Try it!"

[Clarisse Prideaux]

A decline from Riley earned a shrug from Clarisse, and a look expectantly around the room, waiting for answers from others. The answer from Sean was affirmative, but the one from Cobalt was far more distressing. She gasped when the soda began to seep into his shirt.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry!” She cooed, shaking her head. “Here.” She said, just as Anya offered to put some hot water on a cloth. She shook a cloth in her hand at her trainer. “A bit ahead of you, dear!” She chirped, running the cloth under some warm water. Clarisse held it out to Cobalt “Here, love. This will leech it out much better.” She explained. Also, it was more environmentally friendly than the wad of napkins Cobalt had snatched up. When Cobalt had taken up the cloth, she turned back to her work fixing Sean up a plate, conversing as she moved slowly down the line.

“Oh, I’m sure your voice isn’t that bad, Dr. Neville.” She said skeptically, shaking her head as she spooned some of Riley’s cheese dip onto Sean’s plate. “At least no worse than a wailing cat.” Clarisse teased, giggling slightly to herself. She gasped and turned, holding the fork suspended near her shoulders as she wiggled a bit with excitements.

“Charades!” She all but squealed. “Oh I love that game!” Clarisse said excitedly, turning back to the food. “Can we play please? At least at some time tonight?” She added the final question at the last minute, not wanting to seem too pushy. Though she did really want to play. It wasn’t quite as embarrassing as karaoke, and didn’t require the skill that poker did. Anyone could play charades!

Clarisse nodded in agreement with Anya. She was no card shark, and frankly had the world’s worst poker face. Broken bone, she was calm as a still pond. But if she got a good hand in poker? It was like a toddler waiting for cake. She squirmed and smiled, giving away her position before anyone else had taken theirs.

She hummed slightly as she handed Sean the plate, significantly more full than ‘small’ generally indicated (she liked to feed people, what was there to be done?) . “Oh My. I’d try my hand at anything to get ahold of something Anya made.” She complimented, knowing how delicious anything Anya even looked at in the kitchen tended to be. Clarisse tapped her temple and narrowed her eyes as Josh prompted them to make a decision.

“My vote is still charades!” Clarisse said brightly, folding her hands in front of her.

[Riley Adams]

Getting caught staring at the pair by his new acquaintance, Riley held back a curse just ready to explode and instead tried hard to concentrate on Cobalt's question of his occupation. This helped him curb his babbling and he chose his words carefully. "I'm a landscape artist." He answered, spreading his thumb across his left eyebrow a couple of times out of habit. "That's basically a fancy term for gardener." He grinned good-naturedly. It was a common misconception with people he met when he mentioned his job but he'd long since accepted the fact that not a lot of people knew the difference between his job and a gardener's job. For one, he got paid a lot more and for the other, gardeners don't really deal with statues or porcelain fountains in the middle of a rose bush that spelled out the land owner's name.

When Cobalt spilled the drink on himself, Riley bit back a hiss while the two ladies fussed over the bespectacled man. It was his turn to be puzzled at how a bunch of people who had no idea how to play poker were invited to a poker game night. He laughed slightly at Cobalt's revelation before shrugging. "I can't either. Your partner knows how to pick them, doesn't she?" Riley gestured to the napping Leila affectionately. She kind of reminded him of Janice in some ways and that made him smile.

At Cobalt's age reference, Riley frowned oh so slightly. "You can't be any older than me," Riley gave a small chuckle. He was starting to warm up to the man, which was something of a rarity so fast into the acquaintance. His attention was again diverted to everyone else other than his new found friend. Anya's trade seemed reasonable and Riley piped up with his own offer to cook. "I could do that too. Might not be as good as Anya but no one has complained yet so..." he gave a small shy smile.

His ears picked up another compliment and he couldn't even stop the blush from bursting when he realised that it was coming from the quite tipsy Josh. Riley's warm green eyes flit towards the man and his stomach lurched to see the man leaning against his senior. Dang it, get a grip, Adams. He thought to himself. He just met the man for goodness sake. For all he knew, Josh was just way too drunk to realise he was leaning against the other man.

Riley decided to concentrate on another conversation occurring that involved charades. That was actually something he was quite keen on, charades. He could do that. He wasn't good at it but it was still something fun. No one could really flub at charades. And to be honest, Riley wouldn't mind seeing the more inebriated guests show their hand in charades. Sure, he didn't approve the drinking but since he hardly even knew these people, he didn't dare speak up. It didn't help matters either that the guy he was attracted to did two things he didn't approve. Smoking was bad enough but drinking...

He turned back to Cobalt and gave him a smile. "Nothing wrong with charades, right?"

[Cobalt Weaver]

Cobalt flushed as both Clarisse and Anya fussed over the spill on his shirt. Well, this was awkward. And terrible. Maybe someday he could act more like an adult and less like a befuddled teenager. “Er. Thank you.” He shuffled from one foot to another , trying to stay still as Clarisse dabbed at his shirt with a wet napkin. “Sorry, I’m a little… clumsy.” He sighed. That wasn’t exactly true; Cobalt wasn’t really clumsy at all, but it was either that or admit how off-putting this entire situation was, and he didn’t want to make Clarisse feel awkward. She seemed like such a nice woman.

At Riley’s mention of Leila, Cobalt rolled his eyes affectionately and looked over at his intern. Really, this was going well enough that if she wanted to go back home to go to sleep, he could wake her up and tell her to do so. But he figured that maybe it would be safest to keep her around. Just in case. “Yeah, I’m not really sure what she was thinking, she’s usually not this… unpredictable.” And that was probably a lie too, but usually her unpredictability didn’t extend to off the clock. Still. “She’s a good worker though, and smart. Regardless of her questionable social decisions.” He gestured to the group of people as clarification with a smile.

He shrugged at Riley’s question of age, “Eh. Forty-five. But people usually assume I’m in my early to mid fifties.” He grinned up at Riley, deciding that he liked this man who seemed as uncomfortable as he was, even though he was rather tall, especially when compared with Cobalt, who was significantly shorter than average anyways.

He glanced over at everyone else, and was slightly surprised to see Josh sidle over to Sean and start leaning all over the older man. It was… kind of funny, but in a more immediate sense, Josh’s familiarity with the other man was starting to confirm Cobalt’s half-formed suspicions. In an even more immediate sense, it would appear that Josh was drunk already. Which was… unexpected. Also worrying. Cobalt didn’t want to have to deal with drunkenness already. Hopefully Josh would continue to lean all over Sean in a suspiciously familiar manner and start talking loudly about why he disliked Hammel. At any rate, that would be amusing, and very easy for Cobalt himself to handle that. Anything beyond that, he wasn’t sure. And Riley was still staring at Josh, he noticed. It was rather hard to miss that, since Riley was the only person he was talking to. Cobalt felt a helpless amusement. Was everyone at Hammel connected somehow?

Before he could ponder any further, the mention of charades came up. Cobalt’s stomach lurched. Oh god. Charades?? He was pretty sure that Sean wasn’t serious about the suggestion, just some idea thrown out there to laugh about how only two of their group of six could even play the game they all met to play. But then Clarisse got excited about it, and now Riley was turning to him and smiling and saying that charades might be a good idea. And now he didn’t know what to do. Because it was true, he didn’t know how to play poker. He didn’t know how to really play any card game, because he detested them, but he was pretty sure he didn’t like charades any better. Granted, he’d never actually played charades anymore, but he knew how it went. And he’d been looking the fool pretty much this entire night, so why would he want to subject himself to more indignity?

But still. He was the host of this monstrosity, so maybe he should just… let them play charades. Just because they were going to play didn’t necessarily mean he had to. Also, he’d feel awfully bad telling Clarisse no. She was just too damn nice.

“Well, Sean,” Cobalt shrugged at the older man, smiling a little, “You got everyone started on charades, so I guess you’re gonna have to set it up. I will be over there,” He pointed to the chair, “And I’ll… uh. Be the referee. I dunno.”

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“I’ll be sure to paint it black to match your work suit,” Sean told him, still wishing to see how far Josh would take this one train of teasing.

“It isn’t denying them. It’s sparing everyone the pain and sparing myself the humiliation,” the telepath replied to Josh, keeping his voice low so as not to announce his objections to everyone in the room. Unfortunately, arguing with Josh when he was drunk rarely yielded positive results, and Josh was drunk. It was evident in the way he moved, in the lilt in his voice, in how easily he smiled now. The telepath resolved to remain sober for the night – contrary to prior plans – to keep an eye on his friend since he’d succumbed so easily. To Clarisse, he replied, “Oh, quite the contrary. I’m the only person in this state with an injunction to prevent me from wassailing.”

The telepath almost rolled his eyes at Josh’s refutation of his promise to teach the others how to play poker. His friend wasn’t helping with his goal of fostering interest in the game from the other people here. This always happened when Josh got drunk: first he found his sense of humor, then he became incapable of focusing on goals, then he ended up horizontal and usually without pants. Sean would be sure he kept his pants on; after all, he wouldn’t fill his usual drunken role of helping him take them off.

The telepath wasn’t too fond of charades; he’d tossed the idea out there because it was a game that took no prior knowledge and no props. However, it was also a game where he was constantly accused of cheating, more so than with cards or board games, because it was a guessing game and thus entirely mental. It also had the potential to become disastrous when mixed with alcohol, but it was a game he was typically good at, merely disappointing when he’d been enticed here with the promise of poker. Managing not to become crestfallen by Clarisse’s desire to go along with the game, and Riley’s agreement, he nodded. “Well if that’s the consensus...Josh is still on my team.”

Speaking of Josh, his friend had returned from the snack table and was now leaning against him. There went verticality. The telepath wrapped one arm around the other man’s shoulders, encouraging him to lean further; he liked the physical contact fine, and he was comfortable. Then there was a chip all but shoved into his face, and compliantly, he opened his mouth and let the other man push the chip into his mouth. Chewing, he found he agreed. “You’re right; it is delicious.” Turning his head, he gave Riley a smile, “You’ll have to join our cooking club.” The other man still looked uncomfortable, and Sean noticed that he had his attention on him and Josh. He didn’t like probing, but the thought came to him regardless; harmless crushes were what they were. People tended to get over them; or not in Sean’s case, but that was different. He was a telepath.

He then chuckled at Anya’s suggestion of taking over the kitchen. “I’m sure this is unpopular, but I mind if you take over; you’re here as a guest and are just as welcome to relax as the rest of us. Don’t worry about cooking tonight.”

And then there was Cobalt, who still looked uncomfortable – and was now making excuses to keep himself out of the game. Sean sympathized, and he still wished to apologize to him, if he could get alone with him for a minute or two; he doubted that random telepathic conferencing would be welcome, particularly when Cobalt didn’t know him from Adam. Still keeping an arm around Josh, he called after their unwilling host, “Is there something you’d rather do? Games, movies, stories; it’s your house, so it’s only fair that you get to pick."

[Leila Gold]

The clock struck midnight and the spell was broken.

At least that was the way it seemed.

Leila had set her watch to wake her up at midnight so she wouldn't end up overstaying her visit. So the little beeping went up and she slowly sat up from where she had slouched all over the dryer. She'd even found a little towel to crumple under her head as a pillow, though she wasn't sure upon waking that she wanted to think about why that towel was over by the laundry.

She stood and stretched, a breeze reaching up and rumpling her hair while she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. Then she looked around the room, expecting to see a happy crowd of smiling people all playing cards together and eating food while they learned what excellent friends they could all be.

Instead she saw a mess of food on the counter and a footprint on the carpet made of frosting. Cobalt was sitting on the couch with a blank expression on his face. She couldn't tell for sure, but it almost looked like he was trying to keep from crying. Or maybe he was in shock.

"Blue?" she asked slowly. "What happened?"

Slowly she looked around again, then walked over to the bookcase where she had set up the video camera. The red light on it wasn't blinking, though. She looked at it worriedly and shook it up and down a few times. "Dead battery?" she hissed. "It can't be. No, I'll never know what happened!"

She looked back and Blue and put the camera behind her back. "Um. So I guess you're ready for bed, then, huh? I guess I'll just be going. Bye!"

Back at her apartment she plugged in the camera and played back the party to see how much of it she'd actually gotten.

“Is there something you’d rather do? Games, movies, stories; it’s your house, so it’s only fair that you get to pick." Leila leaned forward, hoping to catch just a glimpse of what happened, to find out what Cobalt had said, what he actually enjoyed, what they had actually DONE at this party.

But the tape was blank after that. So Leila looked at the black screen in front of her and wiped away an imaginary tear. She looked down at Athena.

"I guess we'll never know, huh? I wonder if anyone at the party even knows."

And she went to bed.