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Fourth Floor Common Room | Afternoon | Sunday | May 8

Earlier today, Nathan had shoved all of his things into bags and piled them up near his bed. He'd left just a few things out for tomorrow (clothes, cigarettes, small bottle of alcohol, and wallet) but other than that, he was ready to go.

But, he wasn't leaving right yet. He still had a whole day to do nothing but kick his feet up in the common room and relax. He'd dug out a bag of chips that clearly wasn't his (or was it?) and was flipping quickly through various channels in the hopes of finding something halfway decent to watch. He didn't want to be preached to or bitched at or lectured. He just wanted something mindless but Sunday mornings were proving harder for that than he'd originally thought.

Eventually, he settled on some news program. The broadcaster was some older, distinguished lady wearing a see through top and Nathan was counting the number of times her chest pressed hard enough against that top and made it able for him (and everyone) to see things. He was up to four so far. Who knew news was so entertaining?

[It's an open CR and this might be the last time Nathan's out and about before he leaves. He's probably going to sneak out and not tell anyone and then go die. Oops. Anyway, yes, wide open.]

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"Too bad, mate," Nathan said, giving her a once over before smirking. "I like the dirty ones better than the squeaky clean ones. They've always got more...attitude."

He'd made that up. "And you took a bath? You are a toddler. Did you take your rubber duckie in there too?"

"Man, and here I was just dying for you to love me." Sam rolled her eyes. "And baths take less effort. Who the hell wants to stand around when they're just trying to be clean?"

Sam's laziness knew no bounds.

"The last time I took a bath, I was four and my mum had to run the water for me," he said, rolling his eyes. "That's really not making me believe you're any kind of momma but a delusional one."

"That sounds like it's your problem, not mine."

"Nah, I took a poll," Nathan said, waving a hand around the room. "The only person who thinks you're a momma is the gimpy kid down the hall who has to get some help to even wipe himself. I bet you and he would make beautiful music together."

"I was right, then. This school really is tragically full of nubs."

"Nubs?" Nathan repeated, trying to figure out where the fuck this girl's lingo was even coming from. "You sound like you're straight out of a children's book, y'know. I'm beginning to wonder where your imaginary friends, the pig and the duck are."

Children's show, actually.

"They're out eating a bear," Sam said. Hey, if she was going to have imaginary friends, they'd be totally the sort to eat bears.

"Badass," Nathan said because hey, eating a bear was pretty impressive. "Why the hell didn't you go with them? Couldn't pass up the chance to meet me?"

"I had bear yesterday," Sam said. "And it's totally my life goal to meet all the curly haired nubs who talk funny."

He's Irish, Sam. It's not a speech impediment.

Well, at least she hadn't called him a leprechaun. He wasn't betting on that holding true but he was safe for now.

"Talk funny?" Nathan repeated a lot of her words, he realized. "Love, this accent has gotten me into more knickers than you'll ever know. I start talking, they drop their pants and suddenly we're rolling around all tangled up. So yes, that should be your life goal. Everyone should meet me."

"Is that 'cause you were trying to steal their underwear?" Hey, Sam couldn't judge. She wore boxers a lot, herself.

"I didn't need to steal anything," Nathan told her, rolling her eyes. "They give them to me of their own volition."

And Simon was the panty sniffer, anyway.

"It's good that you have such a rich fantasy life."

Damn, Sam had finished off the pickles. She shrugged and dumped the empty jar in the sink, before turning to look for more food.

"What the fuck are you, a bottomless pit?" Nathan asked, raising an eyebrow. "I bet that's gonna make it hell when it comes out the other end."

Right, 'cause Sam had never heard that one before. Well, okay, not the bit about the "other end" at least.

"I'm a growing girl. Gotta eat food when I can get it." Ooo, there were still some hot dogs in here. "We can't all be stickmen."

"Excuse you, I'm gracefully tall," Nathan corrected her, waving a finger. "And what are you gonna do if the owner of those pickles comes looking and is absolutely shattered that his food's now gone into the belly of the beast?"

Sam considered that. "Laugh?"

"You're kind of rude and uncouth."

Nathan liked that in a person.

"What would you do if someone ate your food?"

Sam didn't have to think about that one. "Beat the chiz out of them."

Possibly with a ladle.

"So, you can steal their stuff but if they take yours, they're gonna get beat down?"

Yeah, he liked that even more.

"Why the double standard there? If you steal my shit, shouldn't I get to steal yours?"

"Not if I can beat you up." Or possibly if he gave her really big puppy dog eyes and Carly as there to yell at her. Sam's morality was an amorphous, changeable entity. "And I can beat up most people."

"You wouldn't be able to touch me, Blondie," Nathan said, all confidence. "Many people have tried and every single fucking time I've gotten knocked down, I get right back up and come right back at you. I'm like a moldy fungus that way."

He'd learned that one from Caroline.

"Not if I sit on you, first." Sam had learned that one from her mom. She looked Nathan up and down. "I could snap you like a pole."

"You could do nothing of the sort," Nathan replied, shaking his head. "I have a lot of hidden muscles in all these long limbs. You might try to sit on me but before you know it, bam! I've used my agility to bounce you off my lap and onto your ass. Have fun with that broken tailbone. Makes back door sex a lot harder."

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