niki

It was a good day, nice quiet evening without them needing to stay overtime working. Perfect day for what they planned. They didn't have to make any particular excuse, and they refused to, simply inviting both Art and Max for a cup of tea... Of course without informing them about the other coming. Some would call that an asshole move, Niki called it planning. Who knows if they'd show up otherwise!

The time of their arrival approached quickly, making them nervous in the best way possible. A small coffee table on whimsy legs carved with swirls was already covered with various cookies and other desserts - most of them bought in a local bakery or made by themselves. That's how amazing they were.

The teapot was the last thing to join the party, placed in the middle just a minute or two before the clock struck the desired hour. A moomin house one, alongside with moomin mugs. (Yes, that's a very important detail).

“Fuck,” she whispered out loud, lying both jacket options out on the truck bed. Do they go for something more understated? That’s probably the move. Just a comfy, practical black hoodie. But her crust jacket was just so comfortable and safe…screw it, she’ll be obnoxious. Niki didn’t seem the type to be judgy, anyway.

They threw it on, unceremoniously tossed the rest of their stuff in the bed, and carefully followed the directions Niki had given her. Tea! Just her and Niki, what could possibly go wrong?

It wasn’t that far, she wasn’t even halfway through the CD (that they were only half listening to, anyway) when she arrived. They hesitated at the door for a moment, scratching nervously at their neck, but after a deep breath, she rapped on the door, giving Niki a rare genuine smile when they opened it.

He didn't want to quite say close, for fear of Niki not actually considering themselves close with him, and it being a sort of one-sided friendship thing (the same thing that kept him from actually making friends- because he was too scared he'd get too-close too-fast and weird them the hell out)- but they were buddies, most definately.

He had two whole friends now, wow. Two if you counted Dakota, though he was more of a brother, and he supposed Beckham also, but again, sort of a cousin-

Goddamn, Artemus, in your own head much?

What was the point of all of this? Oh. Right. Nerves. He didn't have them. Appearence-wise, at least.

He knew he was already fucked over by a select few traits- his build, for one, that of which reminded the general populous of some sort of ancient creature with goals to steal your skin, and not to mention the scars on his face and the lack of eye in his eye-hole, thanks, big Jig- there wasn't much that he could wear that would make it any worse. So he wore whatever he pleased.

Today, that consisted of a fairly normal shirt. White and flowing like a Victorian ghost, he will admit, but *fairly normal*. Dark, Pants™-type pants donned his lanky legs, and clunky boots that boosted him at least two inches taller than he actually was- now a whopping 6'10- clad his feet. They weren't helping his joint pain by any, but who cared? Who caaaared?

Speaking of joint pain, he was starting to regret having walked here, when he finally made it to the door. He knocked. It opened. Niki! Yay! Niki's house, Niki's couch, Niki's-

Who was that.

A happy squeak left their mouth as they saw Max at the door, pulling her into a tight hug, again forgetting about what personal space was and why people tend to care about it.

The incense stick lit up somewhere in the room was doing an awful job fighting with the scent of their shampoo. Something sweet with a flowery accent.

"I'm so, so happy you actually came, Hun! Sorry for the mess... Gods, I'm excited!" It chuckled, rushing Max inside as soon as they loosened the grip. "Make yourself comfortable. The bathroom is down the corridor if you need to wash your hands or whatever. You look lovely." They watched them step inside with a big smile, tilting their head as they did so.

Another knock, another squeak as they turned around almost immediately, opening the door with way too much force. "ART! No, no, you're on time. It's just... A little surprise. Gods, I'm so happy to see you again, love!" They pulled him into a hug, getting on their tippy toes to try giving him a quick smooch on a cheek. The door got locked behind them both as soon as everyone was inside.

"Art, Max, I hope you don't mind that arrangement. I had a feeling otherwise it would simply not work! And that would be a shame. I just know you two would get along just fine!" Oh they were excited. Can you tell? Have I mentioned that?

“No worries!” She chirped, sniffing the air. Tea and…incense? Ooh, fancy. “And thank you. Nice pants, by the way” she said, miming cat claws in the air.

A sudden knock at the door startled her, and her mind mentally ran through a list of people it could possibly be—most of them Max didn’t want to see. She turned to Niki, eyes wide, intending to ask who was at the door, but they were already excitedly opening it to reveal a stranger. Max took a carful (hopefully unnoticeable) step back, feeling ever-so-slightly cornered, especially when Niki pulled the stranger into a tight hug.

They relaxed slightly when the stranger—apparently named Art (which was cool. And easy to remember)—didn’t make any sudden movements. Niki seemed to trust them so…it was probably fine, she was just being skittish. Still, would’ve been nice to know she’d be meeting someone today.

She greeted him with a nod, and her typical sly smirk. “Hey, dude. Pleasure to meet’cha” things would be fine she wasn’t going to be weird or scare people off or be attacked or—well, anything like that. Just tea. And a new friend. New friends were a good thing.

Hm.

Max didn't seem...scary. Not in a traditional sense. He didn't feel the need to back away and suffocate himself in glass insulation. Any sense of fear that Art may have felt flooded with suspicion.

It was habit. A bad one, perhaps- he'd been looking out for too-friendly people for so long that he automatically assumed anyone who befriended them was the fucking devil with no possible pure intentions. Except him, of course. He had a naturally pure heart. Yeah, right.

Max. Max. Max. He'd heard that name. Seen that name, somewhere- he flipped through all of the logging he'd kept on all the people he had ever known. Ah. Bingo. Tumblr. He'd seen them talking with Niki and stalked their blog. "Hey, man," he replied, stepping further into the place. He, on instinct, tried to make his form smaller. He held out a hand for a handshake- secondguessed himself and dropped it- and then scrapped the whole motion and stuck his long-fingered hands out anyway. He was calculating.

He glanced back at Niki. "When you said I should branch out more, I didn't think you were going to toss me right into a tree, Nik-name."

"I'm sorry loveeeee, I just really, really want you to. Have someone to hang out who isn't me. And both of you are giving me those... Slightly weird but somehow charming vibes. I thought you might get along! Especially since both of you are my friends." They tried explaining, giving him the best puppy expression they were able to do. Their gaze shifted from one to another, not blinking even once. They just kinda. Stood there for a moment, suddenly hyperaware of how quickly this situation could get awkward.

Fuck fuck fuck.

They scratched their neck a little, just below a faint scar going all around it. Their tongue darted out a little as they thought for a second.

Getting back to their usual self took them just a second longer. Too long, in their opinion.

"I met both of you on Tumblr, isn't that funny? Internet safety my ass, I can't imagine my life without talking to strangers online. And inviting them over after... One or two conversations. I run into Art at library just a day or two after interacting with him!" They now turned to Max, making their way to the couch before getting themselves comfortable there. "A really funny coincidence. I swear I wasn't stalking him, the universe just decided to play a little trick!"

For some reason making sure they both knew they weren't stalking any of them felt important. A little chuckle before they looked back at Art again.

"I'm planning on buying a car with Max." Their mouth stayed open for a moment. What else to say. They just... Trusted them. Um. "I think I mentioned that but the bathroom is down the corridor— you won't miss it... The door barely holds though, you should be careful. I meant to call someone to fix it but oh well, hah!"

Niki was talking, but Max didn’t catch most of it, focusing more energy on eyeing Art up and down for any signs of aggression or weapons—call it a habit, but they couldn’t relax otherwise—and looking as calm as possible. But not mad. Most people thought her resting face looked really mad. Fuck, she was getting really warm, but she pulled her jacket a tiny bit closer around herself. She’d take it off once she wasn’t so on edge.

She managed not to jump when Niki sat down, instead casually switching which leg she was putting more weight on—a practiced and habitual movement. The smooth flowy kind that looked good on stage. Deep breaths. There’s no danger.

She looked over at Niki when she heard them say her name, keeping her normal lazy tone quite steady. Good news! She got all squeaky when she was nervous. Not that they were nervous. The new guy totally wouldn’t hate her, right? “Oh yeah,” she responded to Niki. What had they said? Right, buying a car. “I’m thinkin’ a ‘67 Impala or maybe an old Mustang? Groovy, right?”

Instead of following Niki’s directions to the bathroom, she flopped down on the couch next to them with the same energy she would if they were with the band. Comfortably sprawled out, draping one arm over the back behind Niki.

If Niki wanted them to be friends, she’d make an effort.

So he crumpled himself to the floor, as any reasonable man would do. His knees tucked to his chin, eyes still fixated on Max. He never could read faces. Honestly, he didn't know why he still ever tried to garner anything from a person via how they looked. He did like how Max spoke, though. Her sort of drawl. It was a contrast to his own monotone, rhythmic syllables.

"They weren't stalking me," he confirmed, half of his face twitching up for a brief second into a smile. "I honestly don't think they could. Too bright. Couldn't blend in to the bleak New Jersey."

His smile dropped as soon as the quip was delivered, but his head snapped up at two words in Max's sentence. '67 Impala. God, he was so brainrotted. "Supernatural," he muttered. The word sounded vaguely numb, and incredibly ominous to anyone who didn't have context for it- a fact he realized after a beat of silence had already gone by. "I mean. That's- Dean's car. Supernatural. Groovy," he confirmed.

"are you sure the floor is where you want to sit? There's plenty more space here. And I bet it's way more comfy." They pointed out, patting the couch, spot right next to them.

His reply made them chuckle a bit as they shook their head. They meant online form of stalking, something they did at work daily. Something they used in private life as well, background checking almost everyone they interacted with. But correction sounded unnecessary.

Clear shared connection, interest, even if unknown to them, was a good sign. A chance for a bright future of their friendship. Yes yes, you played it so well Niki, you should really play matchmaker more often!

They smirked at themselves, just nodding along as they talked. They heard of the show but never actually watched it so they had nothing to add. Instead they focused on tea, pouring some to three mugs, each different from another, all with moomins motives. Once mugs made their way to each of them, they shifted on the couch again, pulling their legs onto it completely.

She watched as Art crumpled to the floor. It almost looked like he was trying to make himself smaller, in contrast to Max’s instinct to try and be seen as big and intimidating. She cocked her head at him, one hand unconsciously tracing the curve of her centipede tattoo down her neck as she thought.

Max…liked to think she was good at meeting new people. But normally it was a passing word at a bar, or a deep conversation at a campsite. She was Max the homeless girl, Max the rockstar, Max the boy from juvie. This felt…so much more domestic than they were used to. Fuck, she just didn’t know what to say. Thankfully, Niki took over, the two friends joking about the whole not-stalking-stalking-thing.

Lost in her thoughts—somewhere amidst planning emergency escape routes, basking in the delicious smelling tea, wondering where Niki got their incredibly comfortable couch, and Eagles’ Life In The Fast Lane playing on loop—she almost missed what Art had said. She perked up quickly, trying not to make it too obvious she was excited.

“Yeah! Man, I fuckin’ love that show. Dean’s got all the cool custom stuff, too. I’d kill for a sweet ride like that.”

Okay, yeah, he was definitely cool in their book.

Speaking of cool, each of the mugs Niki was pouring tea into was Moomin themed, which ruled, honestly. She sunk deeper into the couch, finally able to relax a little bit as the conversations kept going. She just hoped she wasn’t crowding Niki or making Art think there wasn’t room for him. People always got onto them for taking up way too much space when they sat down—well, they criticized Scott, too. Just not to his face. Cowards.

She smiled at both of them—a genuine smile that most people mistook for a smirk. First tea party seemed to be going pretty well, even if she still wasn’t quite sure what Art thought of her.

The same thing happened again. He grinned, and then dropped it two seconds later.

He settled next to Niki, good knee curled up to his chest. His words were a sharp contrast to his anxious looks, as he leaned forward to look at Max while he spoke. "I can only imagine it's like, hellish to drive, though, dude. Older cars scare the shit outta me. Not that it's not cool as shit, but- still. He's stronger than me. Stronger than most, actually, in general, but- y'know what I mean." He seemed to slowly be adapting to Max's...speech? Changing his own words and phrasing to match hers. Much like he- both online and in the real world- adapted his excitement levels to match Niki's. A chameleon, of sorts.

He had no idea in hell how he was going to function while mirroring two fairly opposing characters. Scared into returning back to himself? Hm. Easier said than done. 'Himself' as a personality was a ship that had sailed sometime around second grade. 'Unapologetically himself' was a phrase that had been used to describe him. He was almost certain it just meant weird. Oh, well.

They sipped on their tea shifting their gaze from one to the other and back to the first again. The decision on whom to focus on wasn't even dependent on who was talking in the second. They just wanted... No, needed to make sure they'll catch as many facial expressions as possible. There was something... About it, they just weren't able to stop themselves. Still unblinkingly, just how Art noticed during their first meeting. Work habit, perhaps. Or a need to just... Understand. Whatever.

Still not entirely sure what they were talking about, they took out their phone, quickly googling an image of the car they mentioned. As soon as it came up, their eyes opened a bit wider. Despite being an FBI agent, their face was quite... Expressive, putting it lightly. The car was gorg eo us. They nodded, approving the choice before putting the phone down again. Little phone chain ringing quietly.

"it is a beautiful car." They finally decided to chirm into the conversation, giving them both an excited smile. The pause was created mostly from a need to fix their hair, putting a loose strand behind their ear. "And I'm sure it wouldn't be that bad to drive, right?" Quick look towards Max, she was the car guy in their head after all. "Especially in the city."

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