This is filled with amused Dexter and Mandy denying her feelings. I figure this how things would go down.
Also, this takes place when Dexter and Mandy are sixteen. The war is finally waning, with Earth winning out of pure determination and some major scientific and engineering breakthroughs.
Also, Hoagie would totally be the embarrassing father of all relationships he witnessed. "Oh, dear, did you see that-" or "Don't forget to wipe your mouth before you kiss 'em." And stuff like that.
ALSO, Grim is Mandy's fasion consultant. I can totally see this happening in my mind. I just didn't mention it in this.
ALSO AGAIN, I got to mention Star Trek in this, one of my new obsessions.
DISCLAIMER I DON'T OWN STUFF.
She'd long since grown her hair out. Pulled up, it hung just below her shoulders. Dexter hadn't seen it down since the war began. A thought of how she kept the hair out of her eyes flitted through is mind as she sauntered into his office in a pair of slacks and a black turtleneck. He was happy to observe that the mary-janes on her feet had remained in her wardrobe. He had always liked those.
"Listen," Mandy started. No greeting as usual, but her voice was tenser. "We're the two most powerful people on this planet, me politically and you intelligently. People respect us. They fear us. They're jealous of what we do, say, want, or have." She paused, organizing her thoughts and words. "This has been achieved as us working as single people, just two people in the same organization, with no real relationship to each other but boss and employee. If you figure that we can be this powerful on our own…"
A step forward brought her to the edge of his chair. "…Imagine what we can do as a team, together, with a relationship."
Dexter had to think about that statement to catch the second meaning. "Together?"
"Yes."
There was silence. Dexter counted ten seconds before he could find his voice. "Are you asking me out on a date?"
"Yes."
Her eyes were all business, and her scowl was the same serious set of her lips. The only thing different was the casual set of her body, leaning against his desk as he tried to fully comprehend what she was telling him.
Mandy walks in.
Mandy talks.
Mandy asks him out.
Where did this come from? This sudden request for a relationship with him confused him.
Of course, a relationship with her was something he had mused on before. She was daring, intelligent, confident, capable, and elegant – something hard to come by in girls those days. Before he had a chance to act on these thoughts and talk to her more closely, as a human being and not just a worker, he had been thrust into another of her projects.
Leave it to her to shock him with this.
"You're asking me out?" he repeated.
Mandy was quiet, eyes narrow.
Another ten seconds passed by. "Okay," Dexter finally concluded.
Mandy's body came alive, standing up and one hand coming up to pat his shoulder. "Great. Pick me up at eight. Dress formal. We're going to The Firebird."
The Firebird was a restaurant recently built up by foreign KND operatives who missed their food and culture when overseas. It had several different countries, like Italy, India, China, Germany, France, and Sweden, all under one roof.
Dexter sighed but a smile crept onto his lips as the breath fell. Mandy left as fast as she had come.
It was odd, dressing up for a date with his previous-boss-but-now-girlfriend-of-five-hours. Dressed in a sleek black suit, he knocked twice on her door. He rocked on his heels while he waited for the door to open.
When it did, Dexter was met with the sight of a modest maroon dress over a mature body, blonde hair curled and winding down her back, and smoky dark eyes. Red lips were scowling at him, but that was nothing new. "Come on, I got us a limo."
Dexter was hoping they could walk, because it was a beautiful night, but she must have planned ahead. She exited her suite, which Dexter had never seen the inside of, and they walked next to each other down the hallway. Mandy descended down the stairs leading out of the building gracefully and full of poise, and Dexter tried to match that. She pulls it off so much better.
Her stilettos clicked on the concrete sidewalk as they headed for the back of the building. Her purse hung heavy on her shoulder, which made Dexter wonder what was in it. As they rounded the corner of the building, moving onto a narrower sidewalk, the limo sat waiting for them. Hoagie stood in front of the cabin door, dressed in a pinstripe suit, reading a comic book.
"Gilllgan," Mandy stated into the air. Hoagie stuffed the comic book into the inside of his jacket and rushed to open the door. Mandy slid in, and right before Dexter stepped in after her, Hoagie winked at him. Dexter smiled back. Their silent exchange ended when Dexter sat down next to his date –it was still odd to think of Mandy as such- and Hoagie closed the door. Mandy refused to look him in the eye, staring furiously out the window. As soon as Hoagie jumped in the front seat and started the engine, Mandy closed the gap between the front and the cabin with a screen.
She always did like her privacy.
She looked like she was about to say something when Dexter cooed, "You look breath-taking tonight."
Her mouth snapped shut and she was looking out the window again.
"The Firebird is an exquisite place, from what I've heard," she randomly told him. "I've made reservations in 'Italy.'"
"Italy sounds interesting," Dexter put in. "I haven't had the experience of being there, though."
"Do you speak Italian?" Mandy asked. She was slowly turning to face him, but her eyes were stubbornly avoiding his. And it was a shame, because her eyes were vibrant that night.
"I do."
"How many languages do you speak, exactly?" she inquired next.
"About five," Dexter answered immediately. "Russian, English, Spanish, German, French, Japanese- oh, wait, that's six." He lifted his gloved hands and counted off any language he could speak. "English, Russian, Spanish, German, Japanese, French, Chinese, Danish, Swedish, Finnish-" He stopped. "Okay, eleven, if you count Morse code. Twelve, if you count Morse code and Vulcan."
"Twelve, then?"
"Yes."
"Which one is easiest to learn?"
"Why?" With all of the questions she was shooting at him, he figured it was time to shoot one back.
"I want to learn another language," she admitted. "I know English and Spanish already."
A moment of contemplation led to the conclusion of, "Morse code, probably. But you probably don't want to learn from me."
"Why not?" She sounded indignant now.
"I've been told I'm a pretty rough tutor." He smirked.
Mandy rose to the challenge. That telling glint of determination sparked in her eyes. "I've been told I'm an excelling student."
"We'll see."
"When can we start?"
"Right now."
He hadn't realized how much they'd leaned in towards each other until he felt his hand brush against the smooth material of her dress. She looked down, looked up, and inched away. The heat of her body left him, leaving him frigid and cold.
Dexter quickly learned that as much of a hard teacher as he was, Mandy was a tougher student. At linguistics, she could recite anything she heard, apply it to what she knew correctly, and then continue on to say what she knew. By the time they were walking into The Firebird, in its multi-cultural glory, she knew the alphabet and simple words. By the time they were called for their reservation and had been recognized by at least ten people, she was tapping out sentences with her forefinger. When they ordered their food, Mandy did it in Morse code while she said it. "Translating is easy," she muttered.
When their food came, she was talking to him in paragraphs. They paused the lesson to eat, talking airily about what languages did for the world and how sad it was that not many people were at least bilingual, therefore hindering communications and requiring translators. By the time that the waiter came to take their food away, they were back to the tap-tap-tapping on the table and were communicating moderately fast. The clacking of Mandy's nails was rhythmic by the time their desserts came and was finished.
The check came when he was silently telling her about the latest advances in his lab, and that she was welcome to see his progress, and Mandy handed the kid her card before turning her attention on Dexter fully. She understood every word he told her.
He had to clear his throat to find his voice again. Almost the entire meal had gone by in companionable silence, the only sound the pseudo-beeps of Morse code and the scraping of forks and spoons on porcelain. "You advance quickly," he praised.
"I've heard that before," she reminded him. She took a deep breath. "Why did you agree to join me tonight?"
The abrupt question threw him off. "Because you asked me to."
"No, I mean as an 'us'. As a 'couple.'" She emphasized "couple", rolling her eyes.
"Oh." He took three breaths before he had an answer, which was two and a half longer than if it had been any other question. "Because I wanted to."
"You wanted to come here and be my boyfriend," she echoed, grumbling "boyfriend".
"I wanted to come here and be your boyfriend," Dexter agreed. Her eyes were dark, unreadable. She was analyzing his face for a lie.
Surprisingly, absolutely none had been spoken that night. She sensed this, closing her eyes for a split second and shrugging. Impassive. The waiter came back with her card, and as soon as it was handed it to her, she was standing. Dexter thanked the kid for his service sincerely before following.
"The reason I ask," Mandy explained, once Dexter had caught up, "is that it was so sudden. I walk into your office and ask you if you want to be my boyfriend. You don't ask about any catches or think about any loopholes. You just agree. It didn't make sense.
"You didn't seem to be pining after me, either. I've seen guys that actually blush when I walk by. You never have. You never showed any hints of affection towards me besides constantly beating your set deadlines with a cheerful smile on your face. I didn't get why you would agree to come here tonight. I didn't know if you even would if I asked. I had to know if you had any feelings for me. I was just curious."
"Curiosity is normal." He smiled at her. "But needing to know if someone has feelings for you is not. You were more than just curious."
He had called her out. He knew it by the way the clicking of her heels faltered before picking up with renewed gusto. She didn't meet his eyes.
"It's normal," she insisted.
"It is not."
"It is."
"Not."
"It is."
"Not."
She stopped and stared at him, in the middle of the parking lot they had ended up in. The limo was still a few feet away. "I was just. Curious. And I will continue to be curious, and only curious, for as a long as I wonder if you have feelings for me."
He lowered his head in submission and chuckled. The glasses fell to the tip of his nose when he looked downward. A small hand beat him to pushing them up the bridge of his nose, nudging them up gently.
Mandy blushed at the small but intimate gesture that was a seemingly subconscious reaction and hurried to get in the cabin of the limo. Before Dexter could follow her, a small smile on his face, Hoagie, who had been holding the door open and had witnessed the gesture, nudged him. "Ooh, she likes you."
"I know," Dexter whispered back. "But she'd never say it."