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Mutants & Masterminds: Heroes United - [Fic] Dinner And A Show


SalmonMax

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Renata flew back to Andry's building, put her clothes back on over her costume, and ran the city blocks back to where she'd stashed her car...all still fighting the lingering headache and dizziness from her 'power push' event. She was so out of it that she actually managed to get lost at one point and had to go building-to-building to find the secluded lot where she'd parked.

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And that's when the real hard part started.

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She got in, started the engine, and as she slowly pulled out, she hit a speed dial button on her phone.

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A second later it picked up, and she heard her father say, "Ren! Are you okay?!"

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Hearing him eased a vise in her chest she'd only barely been aware of. A reminder that, for all their differences, they were family. The near-panic in his voice was painfully, nakedly audible. She had to pull over as her vision blurred.

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"Yeah, Dad," she said thickly. "I'm ok. Sorry I didn't call...couldn't get a signal while I was still in the cordon. Cell towers were all fucked up or something I dunno..."

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"She's all right!" That wasn't directed at her, and Renata heard a sobbing gasp from somewhere away from the receiver. Then her mother came on and tearfully said, "Are you hurt? Honey, we were so worried! We've just been staring at the TV for...for since it started! Why didn't you call?!"

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She opened her mouth to answer, but her dad came to her rescue; she heard him say something quietly, away from the phone. Then he got back on. "Peanut, we're just glad you're okay. I mean, we didn't think you were usually in that part of town, but we tried calling you and you didn't pick up, and...things just got worse and worse."

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Renata winced. She really needed some way to use her phone in costume. Or at least check messages. "I'm sorry, Dad," she said softly.

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He blew out an exhalation that chuffed in the phone's mic, then assured her, "It's okay. Everything's fine. You're all right." He chuckled then...that famous, immediately-infectious chuckle that was like an express elevator to trust. "What were you doing clear up there anyway, Peanut? Not too many college kids or artists hanging around there."

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She winced again, for a different reason. He always found a way to remind her that she was slumming, without ever doing it openly enough to call him on. Goddamnit. A vengeful little surge of spite kicked in, and Renata replied without a hitch, "I was...well I was on a date."

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The silence on the other side of the line was seven kinds of vindicating. It managed to convey 'incredulous' without transmitting any data at all; a masterpiece of efficiency. Renata pounded the nail in a little more and added, "Lunch date."

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That brought things back a bit. "Oh," her dad said, "Lunch date. Of course."

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"I mean, we've had regular dates too, but this was just lunch." She couldn't help it. Imagining the looks on their faces was worth any price.

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"Well...that's great!" the Senator exclaimed. "Jeez, Peanut, why haven't you even told us before you were going out?"

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Ren heard her mother bark, 'what?!' in a startled voice, and had to cover the mic for a second so the laugh she couldn't contain wouldn't wreck everything. When she was sure of herself she replied in an appropriately embarrassed tone, "It's only been a couple of times now. There's nothing really to tell yet."

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But too late, now her mother was back on, and her voice was so excited that Renata felt a little bad about it...but it couldn't be undone now. "Hon, this is amazing news! When did you meet?! What kind of boy is he?! Is he anyone we know?!"

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She laughed, and the nervous edge to it was both completely convincing and completely real. This was starting to get more complicated than she'd wanted it to be. "A couple of weeks ago, I guess," Ren said, "He's nice, but you guys wouldn't know him or his family. He's..." Her brain skipped a beat. Jesus Christ, what was her boyfriend like?

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Credentials. Lets give him credentials.

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"...he was in the army," she said. "Got a good job offer though so he didn't go career. He's been overseas, which is pretty cool."

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Her parents were silent, raptly sucking up the information like black holes surrounded by old unstable stars.

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"...like hunting, being outdoors. We're talking about doing some camping before it gets cold. Uh, anyway...like I said...it's still no big deal."

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Her dad laughed his big, 'you're all in on the BEST joke' belly laugh and said, "Talking about camping is no big deal? Hon, your mom and I have been waiting for you to tell us this for...well for years. We were so worried that whole Jon thing had really hurt you. I mean, all through the rest of high school, and college...just nothing. So even one date is great news. Hey, I know!"

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The boyish enthusiasm in his voice closed like fingers around her heart. She knew that tone really well.

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"Why don't you bring him over?!"

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fuckfuckfuck!

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"Dad...it's a little early to drag him to meet the folks, don't you think?" Renata desperately parried. "I don't want to scare him off."

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He laughed again. "Peanut, anyone who's tough enough to go out with you can certainly deal with your mom and I. We're kittens compared to you!" Ren heard her mother reprove him gently, and he chuckled again.

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"I'll...I'll think about it, ok? No promises." Renata hesitated. "Is everyone else okay? I mean, with the attack and everything? Have you heard from everyone?"

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That brought things back down again, which made her both relieved and a little guilty.

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"Not everyone," her dad said. "Not yet." His tone assumed an only slightly-enforced cheerier tone. "We'll get that all straightened out as it comes, but for now, seriously, punkin...we're going to keep the table set with another place. So bring'em on over! All right?"

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"Look, dad...it's not that I don't want to. He's just...this is a bad time, you know?" Renata pleaded. "He's got friends up there."

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"Peanut, I'm so sorry," he said quickly. "You're right. Of course. We're just so happy for you, we forgot all about what he's going through. Give him our best, and you guys come over whenever you want. Alright?"

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She sighed and nodded. There was no escape. He'd keep going until he had some kind of agreement he could hold her to. "Okay, dad."

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A few minutes later Renata was back on the road, head spinning from one more thing to juggle. She had some time, but sooner or later she'd have to serve someone up...or come clean about having lied to them right after one of the worst scares in the family's history.

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Why weren't there superheros for situations like THIS?

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It was just after noon when Scout got the call on his cellphone. Not his usual cell...the other one. The business one. The Focht one.

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Fulcrum's voice on the other end of the line was succinct. "Hey, it's Fulcrum. Can we meet somewhere? I need to ask a favor."

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Not long after that he was sitting in a small but well-run little bistro not far from the south end of the park, reading a paper and wondering what was up, when a young woman sat across from him. Short, dark hair, intense brown eyes...cute, but kind of plain-jane. She gave him a self-conscious half-smile and waved a hand at her face. "So...what do you think of my mask?"

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She shook her head and laughed at his hurried reassurance and finally just interrupted him, "So I need a favor." Fulcrum leaned over the table a little, her smile turning wry, and dropped her volume a bit. "Wanna be my boyfriend?"

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Johnathan was thankful that he had only been drinking a glass of water. He had been so sure that Renata couldn't stand him, tolerating him only on a professional level thathe accidentally spat a mouthful of water on the sidewalk of the bistro's outdoor seating.

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Then he realized she was pulling his leg. "Oh, real funny" his reddened. "Now why dontyou tell me what you really asked me here for. I'm happy to help, but try to be serious, okay?"

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She snickered and sat back. "Actuallllly," she drawled, "I am being totally serious. Kind of. I've gotten into a bind, and I need a boyfriend, but I don't actually want a real one. I want a fake one."

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Renata nodded. "That'd be you."

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She tapped the table twice, quickly, and plunged on. "We'd need to go on a 'date' or two, just to give it some wings. Then I take you to the main event...dinner at the folks' house. We eat, make smalltalk, tell some little white lies...and then we're done. I'll owe you one. What do you say?"

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John gave her an appraising look from across the table, then thanked the waiter that brought him a refilled glass of water. For a heartbeat, Ren was sure he'd say no. Especially given the expression of annoyance on his face. Then, "Yea," he suddenly replied, "Yea, I could do that." He took another sip of water.

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Placing the half full glass back on the table he leaned forward, "But I've got conditions. One: You can't ask me to lie about who I am. I'm an honest man, and that's important to me. I figure your folks won't know me, so that shouldn't be too much of a problem. I'm just not going to pretend to be from some biker gang or something. That's not me. And two: You have to tell me why you're trying to fleece you're parents." At this, John actually shrugged in spite of himself, "I just want to know why you feel like you have to lie to them." He suddenly seemed much older than he appeared. Renata briefly remembered, that as a veteran, John would have seen some things that would have likely taken a toll on him. Experiences that were invaluable and haunting all at the same time. It was enough to put the more mundane aspects of life, like one's relationship with their parents into perspective. "You only get one mom and dad. You should cherish that relationship, not try to manipulate it." The way John was able to provide her with advice, while leaving out the usual condescending holier-than-thou tone she was used to hearing was refreshing. She realized: John was legitimately concerned about her. It was clear she'd asked the right person.

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"Other than that," he smiled, "I just want to know what you had in mind for our first date."

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Renata closed her eyes for a second. She'd known this was coming, but that didn't make it easier.

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"I'm Renata Hodges," she said. "My dad is Tom Hodges. One of New York's two Senators. This isn't about fleecing them. After the..." she grimaced slightly and flapped a hand. "...the attack, in Central Park, I screwed up a little, and had to explain why I was in that part of town. So I told them I'd been seeing my boyfriend, and things...escalated...and now I either have to cough up said boyfriend, or explain why I lied to them in the middle of a national disaster."

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She shrugged, not quite hiding her unease. "I figure you're the only guy I know who they'd be so happy about that they won't squint too hard. And then we can break up and it's back to business as usual. Crisis averted."

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"For the low, low price of getting to meet a New York senator and a free, likely bother than average quality meal?" Join hesitated for dramatic effect. Ren squirmed a little in her seat, waiting. "Sold to the highest bidder!"

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"I think we could even stage a few training sessions and call them dates. This could work out pretty well, having a fake girlfriend. I need a decent sparring partner. Mo, and Paladin are always busy, and while Slither might hold her own, sparring with her might make things awkward, especially after that last mission. I feel like I'd end up breaking gatekeeper, somehow, and the doc's not a fighter. Oh yea, and Gabe cheats," he smiled at that last. "You're the best candidate anyway. Up until now, though, I was just so sure you didn't like me." It was John's turn to have his smile turn into a wry one.

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"Now then," John leaned back in his seat and paused for a sip from his glass puff water, "your just going to owe me one, huh?"

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Renata raised an eyebrow a little, but nodded. "Yeah, guess so," she said. A touch of wariness there...she hadn't really expected him to hold that over her, but she wasn't backing away.

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"Alright, so first things first. Do you have an actual girlfriend? That could complicate things. Second, you're right about the dates, we should go out at least once or twice before the dinner and make sure the kinks are worked out." Her cheeks reddened a little, but otherwise she was very clinical as she asked, "What kind of PDA are you comfortable with? Hand holding, hugging...etc?"

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She paused then added, "Also...anything in your past you really want to make sure no one finds out? You don't have to tell me what it is...just...know going into this that Dad...might peek into your records a little. After he meets you.

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With a nervous laugh, trying to keep things light, Ren said "Now you see why I have to get a fake boyfriend. Not too many people are eager to go out with someone they have to practically fill out paperwork to date."

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Scout laughed at that, but didn't seem to know where to go with it from there, so Renata took the lead.

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"Look, we've got a lot to talk about. Lets go out tonight...get some dinner, be seen together. We can catch a show which'll give us good cover to talk in private and get all this worked out."

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The super-soldier nodded. "Okay," he agreed, "But I still want to spar sometime."

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Ren chuckled and shook her head ruefully. "Right...right, fine. No sparring on a first date though. One of the simple rules."

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He laughed at that, and they clinked glasses, sealing the deal.

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  • 2 months later...

"You okay in there?"

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Scout sounded worried, and apologetic, and Renata scrubbed her face harder with a burst of sudden irritation. "I'm fine!" she called back. The blood coming from her nose abated with pressure from a wet paper towel. The bruise on her cheek would probably not be TOO bad, she thought, but it might show a bit. That could make public appearances awkward for a few days.

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"Look, I'm sorry," John said from his post just outside the door to the women's dressing rooms near the gym. His voice oozed sincerity, and it was pissing her off something fierce. "I just assumed you'd be using your powers."

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She scowled at the mirror. "What would be the point of that? If I was going to use my powers, I'd just pick you up and bang you against the walls until you stopped moving. Or choke you out in midair. That wouldn't be a fight."

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John winced a little at the rather gruesome images her description called up. He was fairly sure he'd be able to put up more of a fight than she was making it sound...but it was still not something he wanted to put to the test anytime soon. "Yeah, but you can at least use your powers to block..."

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Renata came out of the dressing room, still in her workout clothes; a tanktop over a sports bra and spandex pants that had previously been part of her costume. She had a new cold press on her cheek and was giving Scout the stinkeye. "Same thing. If we're going to spar, I want to SPAR. I can stop bullets with my powers. How does it help me if I can just stand there and let you punch me and not even feel it?"

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He shook his head, torn between contrition at having hit a pretty girl, and a flash of annoyance at her seeming dismissiveness towards his own powers and training. "Look, I know you're tough with your powers, but I was counting on that. You're a good fighter but..."

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She planted her free hand on her hip and glared at him. "But what? Go on. But?"

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"But I was a Navy SEAL, Renata," he said patiently. "Some natural talent and street fighting doesn't hold up to that. It's nothing bad on you. Hell, you did really well..."

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"Ugh!" Renata turned away, and one of the punching bags on the other side of the gym was suddenly hit by something hard enough to swing almost all the way up. A round impression formed on it, stretching the fabric covering it into a fairly deep pit. It swung back down and pendulumed to and fro, slowing down with each arc.

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"Don't patronize me," she told him, not looking back at him. "Don't kick my ass, then tell me I did really well. I was THERE. I don't need you to tell me how I did."

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John eyed the punching bag, mentally gauging the force that had struck it to make it act that way. It was much heavier and tougher than normal, meant to stand up to superhuman punishment. At least it hadn't broken.

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"Renata," he tried again, "Between my training, and my powers, I don't think there's more than a handful of normal people in the world that could really expect to beat me...and they're all people who've spent their entire lives training and working out. So when I said you did good, I wasn't patronizing you. Okay? You fighting me without your powers would be like you...armwrestling Magnum Opus without your powers."

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Ren took a deep breath and forced herself to nod. "Yeah," she let out with her exhalation. "Alright, I see what you're saying."

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"I think it's great you want to keep in shape though...not just sitting back and letting your...mind powers do all the work for you." His voice was still irritatingly sincere, and Renata looked back at him. He was so earnest, all the time. It was simultaneously admirable, and annoying. Mostly annoying because it constantly reminded her of the lies she lived.

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Somehow the fact that she appreciated his honest positive appraisal made her even more irritable. Not for the first time it occurred to her that he'd actually probably make a pretty good boyfriend. A good friend too, but not really the 'hang out and party' type, which was too bad.

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"Yeah, well, it looks like I have a long way to go," she replied grumpily.

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He grinned. "You hit pretty well, truth be told. What you need to work on is your defense, especially against grabs, holds, throws...that kind of thing. You're quick and you're using it at first, but you get upset after a jab or two gets through, and you start trying to get in my face. That makes you easy to get a hold of...and then it's pretty much over."

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Ren grimaced and looked away again.

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"You can't go toe to toe with me," John persisted. "I'm bigger and stronger. You've got some good moves, but you can't ignore brute force. Not if you're going powers-free."

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"You know," she replied icily, "I was fighting guys who were bigger and stronger than me back before I ever got powers. I did fine." Most of the time, she mentally added with a wince.

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"Were you fighting Navy SEALs?" he asked. "Beating up a few drunk college quarterbacks, when you take them by surprise, is a whole other thing. Especially when they're not likely to see you as a threat until it's too late. You can't depend on your enemy to screw up like that. Not in a real fight."

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Renata scowled as she gingerly touched her bruised cheek, still without looking at Scout. It was easier to control her powers when she didn't look at what was pissing her off. It keyed off sight. Don't look at it, can't affect it. "Anything else, Master Yoda?" she asked. "Got any pebbles in your hand or anything?"

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He shrugged. "I'm just trying to help."

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God damn, there was that simple honesty again. You couldn't argue with it. You couldn't really even get mad at it. The anger she felt was a twisted, self-directed thing. She wasn't mad at him for beating her. She was mad at herself for losing. It was just leaking out at him.

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"Yeah," she said after a second. "I'm sorry. Seriously. I'm being a total bitch, and you're giving me some good advice. Look, we shouldn't go out tonight since I'll be sporting a big old purple blotch on my face and I really don't want Dad thinking you're beating me up. Lets give it a week and..."

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"You know," Scout said with a grin, "We don't HAVE to go out to go out. What if we stay in...order out for something, watch something on TV?"

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Renata stared at him for a second. "You do realize the whole point of going out is so people SEE us going out, right?" she asked. "We're not really a couple. There's no domestic bliss here."

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"No, but we're friends. Friends do things like that," he pointed out.

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She hesitated, then said, "Alright, I...I'm going to give you a piece of classified information. Just...to be sure things are clear. Alright? I mean this is classified. Your ears only, until I say otherwise."

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John lifted his eyebrows curiously, and nodded.

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Renata took a deep breath and steeled herself. Her stomach lurched, and it was hard to breathe, but she powered through it because the absolute last thing she EVER wanted to have happen again was having a guy friend fall for her.

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"I like girls, John. That's what this whole thing is about, basically. My folks aren't going to be able to deal with it, so..." she waved a hand around. "I have to go through all this shit, and pull you along through it too...and it kind of sucks because honestly I'd probably really like you if I...you know...LIKED you. But that's just not how it's going to work. I'm sorry."

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Scout listened, and if he was surprised it didn't show. If he was disappointed, it also didn't show. He just nodded. "Sorry to hear there's trouble that way with your folks. It's all good with me...you're good teammate, and a good friend. That's more important than anything else about a person. And don't worry." He smiled. "I've got some experience with classified information. No one'll hear it from me."

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Renata nodded gratefully and smiled back. It really was too bad.

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"Thanks."

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"So...movie night? You like pizza?"

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She laughed. "Sure. What the hell? You pick the movie, I'll get the pizza."

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They walked out, already arguing the merits of bad movies and good food.

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