cleaning up

Who: Mickey and Elle
When: Before the gallery showing
Where: Mickey’s place

Elle was looking forward to the evening. She was sure the showing at the galley would be wonderful, and before that she had an important task to attend to. That was something she was also looking forward to - seeing Mickey kind of dressed up and smart. Not that there was anything wrong with how he normally was. It would just be an interesting change. Perhaps interesting enough to capture the attention of a certain someone.

Not that she was going to meddle. She intended to keep her promise. Secretly she thought that helping him chose what to wear and whatnot would be meddling enough. After that she could stand back and watch the fruits of her labour blossom.

Unable to keep herself from smiling, Elle knocked at his door and waited.

Mickey was half dressed when Elle knocked on the door. His pants were on, but his shirt was still half unbuttoned and not tucked in. He was clean though, having spent a good amount of time in the shower trying to get the mechanic’s grease and oil off his skin and out from under his fingernails. Pulling open the door he grinned at Elle. “My fairy godmother did show up after all hmm?” he teased, stepping aside so she could enter.

As she walked in, Elle waved an imaginary wand in his direction. “Of course,” she said brightly. “Would she ever let you down?” Standing with one hand on her hip and the other at her chin, she eyed him with playful scrutiny. Eventually she gave him a smile. “Don’t worry, I can turn you into a prince. Without any stipulations about being home by midnight, too.”

Mickey grinned, closing the door and leaning back against it. “A prince it is then. Even better if there isn’t a curfew. You know how I hate those sort of rules.” Standing up he nodded through the little apartment to his room. The whole place was tiny and would have been in a state of disrepair if he wasn’t so good at fixing things himself. It was neat though that was more because he didn’t have much to put in it rather than him being a neat person.

“I wouldn’t want to stifle you,” Elle told him with a mock seriousness and settled herself on the couch. “What exactly am I helping you with?” she called after him. While she had her own ideas, she figured it was best to let him take the reins and offer some friendly advice where it was needed.

“Not looking like an idiot?” Mickey called from his room, bringing out two ties for her to look at. Neither was very nice, but he thought they weren’t too bad. “I’m really bad at this Elle. No one really got around to explaining it.”

When he returned, Elle gave him a bit of a look. “You’re not going to look like an idiot.” Her tone was reassuring with a subtlety firm hint to it. Whatever he ended up looking like, she was certain it wouldn’t be an idiot. Both the ties were okay, so that was a good start. Had she thought of it earlier she could have brought him one of her father’s. Though she wasn’t sure how well he would have taken that. “There’s not really a lot to it,” she told him breezily, feeling like she should be making less of a big deal out of it. His words struck a chord with her - she’d missed out on the same kind of guidance too. No real role model to reveal the secrets of the complicated business that was being a girl. After a few moments of contemplative silence, she pointed to one of the ties. “I think that one. It suits your eyes.”

“I have a suit for weddings and funerals. And I always feel like an idiot at those,” Mickey said, ignoring her little look. “And I’m worried that it’ll be worse if there’s not a lot to it. At least if there was a lot to it, I could blame it on it being complicated.” When she picked a tie he tossed the second on the couch away from her and worked on finishing buttoning his shirt before draping the tie around his neck. His shirt was still half untucked and he had the tie facing the wrong way, proof that he’d probably have to re-tie it at least four times before he got it right.

“If wearing a suit makes you feel like an idiot, try wearing a peach bridesmaid dress that has you drowning in ruffles. It looked a little like a cake that had been dropped.” Shaking her head at the memory, Elle broke into a grin, trying to ease his nerves. Watching him, she found his lack of success at mastering the finer points of getting ready endearing. Maybe it was more complicated than she’d hoped to convince him it was. “Um, Mickey...?” She gestured to the backwards tie.

“I imagine you were down right precious,” Mickey teased, getting a perfect visual of Elle dressed like that. He was halfway through the first step of the knot when she gestured towards the tie and he looked down, staring at it confused for a moment. “What?” he said before figuring it out and rolling his eyes at himself. “Right, helps if I put it on right. I’m a mess. I can’t tie this right, let alone what I’m supposed to talk about.”

Getting up from her seat, Elle went over to him. “Just take a breath and don’t get yourself all worked up, okay?” she said as she tied the tie. There. That was one thing taken care of. Now she could concentrate on the other matter. “Talk about the paintings. Why you like something, why you don’t like it,” she suggested. “I don’t think anyone’s going to expect you to give them an expert opinion.” She gave him a light shrug. “That’s what I plan to do, anyway. And you can always talk to the person about themselves. That tends to work.”

Mickey breathed a little easier as she fixed his tie, bending down so she could reach properly. Once in was done he smoothed it nervously before trying to tuck the rest of his shirt into his pants. “Talk about the art? What I like is going to be wildly stupid. ‘I like the color green’ isn’t really going to impress anyone.” Why was he going to this again? “And the other thing, nothing I have is interesting. I’m going to wind up asking her about the weather.” Even if he didn’t mean to be specific, there was no avoiding the fact that Elle’s roommate had been on his mind. Mickey secretly blamed Elle even though he was perfectly capable of thinking of Shoshannah without the suggestion.

“It’s a good start,” she said encouragingly. “I mean, you could say something like... ‘I like the use of the colour green here. It seems a colour that should give a sense of tranquility but when you see it here, that feeling begins to get lost. It’s as though the artist is striving for calm amongst the chaos’. It’s just describing what you see, how it makes you feel and what you think of it.” She couldn’t really think of a better way of putting it. He just needed to avoid over thinking it and go with his instinctive reaction, that was all. A little smile crossed Elle’s lips at the mention of ‘her’ but that was as far as she went in pointing out his choice of wording. “First things first, tell her she looks pretty. Always open with a compliment. Then tell her what a wonderful job she’s done with the showing. Ask her a few questions about it - why did she want to showcase those particular artists, does she have a favourite piece, is she pleased with how it’s all turned out. Things like that. It’ll show that you’re interested in her and care about the things she cares about.” Catching his eye, she reassured him, “You’ll be fine.”

Mickey was certain that if he tried to describe how he liked green in a painting the word ‘tranquility’ would never come to him, nor would he say anything as eloquent as Elle just pulled from thin air. He saw that smile and tried to ignore it while he grabbed the vest that went with his suit, pulling it on and trying to straighten his tie as he buttoned it. He knew her voice was catered to Shoshannah completely, but tried to ignore it. “Open with a compliment,” he muttered, repeating what she said to remember it. “You’re undying faith in me worries me,” he said, but smiled with it.

“It doesn’t worry me at all,” she answered with a big, carefree smile. Everything would work out as it should. It might require just a little bit of help, but it would be great. “If you get really stuck, you can give me a signal and I’ll come running.” Not solely in the case of Shoshannah, in general. While she didn’t want to imply that he might get out of his depth, she wanted him to know that she was there if he did.

“You’re going to be at my side the whole night,” Mickey mused, fixing his tie again, but without a mirror which meant it was crooked in his vest. “Maybe just pretend you don’t know me? That way I won’t ruin your reputation.” Out of his depth was the nice way of putting things. He guessed he’d be half walking disaster.

Elle adjusted the tie so it made a nice neat line. “Fortunately for you I don’t have much of a reputation to ruin.” Even if she did, and whatever reputation she did have, her friendships were more important to her. They came first. “Plus it’ll be very difficult for me not to check up on you. I wouldn’t want people to think I’m staring at you for the wrong reasons.”

“Right, you’ll be staring at me? People would get the idea that someone like you would be interested in me?” Mickey teased, knowing that he’d heard his own share of rumors about their friendship. He didn’t mind and they were easily dispelled, but he doubted people assumed she was interested in him. The other way around yes, but not her into him.

“Stranger things have happened,” she pointed out light heartedly. She didn’t see Mickey that way but could imagine it being perceived differently from the outside. “And I have to say that you are now looking very debonair.” There was a purposely self-satisfied lilt to her voice that suggested she may have been complimenting her own handiwork rather than him.

He needed her complimenting her own handiwork, because it felt less like he’d had any control over how he looked. He knew that wasn’t a good sign. “Am I now?” he asked, quirked a real smile, not the nervous ones he’d had before. “I knew I could rely on you.”

“Yes, you are,” she replied, any traces of teasing gone. She hoped his more genuine smile meant he was beginning to feel more at ease. Though she rolled her eyes at his comment, there was a smile with it too. “Thank you for your confidence in me but you should really stop selling yourself short. After all, confidence is key.”

“I’m confident if I’m fixing something. Confidence only goes so far when I’m completely out of my element,” Mickey said. Smiling he leaned in and kissed her forehead lightly, again with his friendly gestures that he kept between them. She reminded him of his sisters sometimes, even though she looked nothing like them and when she did it, it was hard not to show her how he felt about her. “You ready to go then?”

“So just smile and pretend,” she told him with one of those big beams that seemed to come so naturally to Elle. Giving his hand a quick squeeze, she nodded. “Let’s go.”