"Betty?"

"Yes, Simon?" the young woman looks up from her notes, which she has been scribbling absentmindedly on the corner of while subsequently trying to study.

"Well, erm…" This was it. He'd been working up on how to ask her for a week now. He'd played around with different wordings, running through each and every possible scenario in his head. Bracing himself for when she'd say no. When, not if. But it didn't hurt to try, he figured. Better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. Or something like that.

He opens his mouth, ready to deliver the meticulously prepared question. Then, his mind goes blank.

For two seconds, his mouth hangs open, as he mentally scrambles to recover the words. Curses, should have written it down. But he's smart enough to shut his mouth again, so as to avoid looking like some prized mounted bass, once it becomes obvious that the words refuse to come.

"Simon?"

He has to say something now. He's initiated conversation; he can't just leave her hanging. But he can't just ask her out. She probably gets asked all the time. There's no way a busy woman like her could make time for a guy that can't even phrase a creative invitation.

"You look a little dehydrated. Maybe you should go get something to drink.

You look dehydrated. He mentally kicks himself. You. Look. Dehydrated. Why had he said THAT?! Couldn't it at least have been, "You look particularly lovely today?" or maybe, "Might I ask what you're working on?" Why couldn't he have asked something a little more socially or mentally engaging?

But the girl does, in fact, pull a compact out of her small, black handbag, examining her reflection. She frowns, closes the compact, and nods.

"You're right. Thank you, Simon. I have a bad habit of not drinking enough when my mind is on other things. I do have a bad case of dark circles, don't I?" she smiles.

It's a trap, he realizes, the ever-famous voice of Admiral Ackbar echoing in his mind. If he agrees, he'll be backhandedly insulting her!

So instead, he answers, "No, not at all. You look wonderful!"

Elizabeth raises an eyebrow.

"Didn't you just say that I looked dehydrated?"

Oops.

"Well, um, only a little bit. But you don't look THAT bad." THAT bad. Oh dear lord, why?!

But she seems unoffended. She stands up out of her chair, making for the hallway that contains the nearest water fountain.

Simon stands by the desk, waiting for her to come back. Stepping away now would be akin to arbitrarily abandoning a conversation; he doesn't want to be implicitly rude, and risk ruining his already probably rather shaky reputation.

After a minute or two, Betty comes back. Her rose-pink lips glisten with trace amounts of water. She looks like she got a good drink.

She sits down and turns to him.

"So, is there anything else you needed to talk to me about?"

"Umm…" His limited social compass screams at him to keep the conversation, but her figures that he shouldn't press his luck. He decides to let Betty get back to studying.

"N-no, I should get going, actually."

"Okay."

Simon turns to leave, a little disappointed in himself. Well, another day come and gone, another chance passed up, he tells himself. She'll probably have a new boyfriend tomorrow, considering his luck, and that will be that. They'll probably end up married, and happy, and Betty will go on to be phenomenally successful and eventually have a child who will most likely not be called Gunter…

"Oh, Simon, before I forget," Betty's voice stops Simon in his tracks. He whirls around on his heel, startled, perhaps a little too obviously eager to reply to her."

"Y-yes, Betty?"

"Well, I don't have a lot of work this weekend, and… well, there's something I've been meaning to ask you…"

Beyond all his wildest expectations, Simon finds himself sitting in the local café that weekend, just a table's width apart from the most beautiful girl in the world. Although, it's felt a little more like a two-way job interview than an actual date. As soon as the two of them had sat down with their drinks (Betty with a small latte, Simon with a cup of fine Earl Grey), Betty had hit him with a barrage of questions, all of which he had to stammer out answers for (but really, how are you supposed to all-inclusively answer "what do you look for in a woman?) She had promised, in return, that he could answer any questions that he wanted, but he was starting to realize that all of his questions were really just him trying to determine whether or not he'd make an okay boyfriend.

"So, this might be a bit of a personal question, I'm not sure if I ought to ask you…"

"Go ahead."

"Oh? Um, okay. Well, here goes," his cheeks go slightly flushed, "Are you… are you a virgin?"

Betty raises an eyebrow.

"Why do you ask?"

Simon's cheeks glow a little brighter, and it takes a moment of stammering for him to get out a coherent answer, "I-I guess, I mean, if we're thinking about actually starting a relationship properly, I guess a part of me just wants to know how much experience you've had."

Betty's expression becomes slightly scandalized.

"Excuse me?!"

"I… whoa, okay, that came out wrong, I'm so sorry. I… what I meant was… well, I've never done it, but a lot of the guys talk about it all the time, and I… It's hard to tell whether girls have or not, though, because they don't tend to brag about it, and they might be really into that even if they don't look like they do… like the stereotypes, I mean… But if you have, I don't want to disappoint you. I figure that if you've been that far with other guys, unless they were new at it… which, I mean, they could have been, because you're really amazing… um, and what I meant… ugh, lost track of that train of thought… I guess what I'm trying to say is, I don't have any practice, so if you happen to like to, you know, then I'm afraid I'd be pretty boring. But you're way too amazing to be interested in doing only one thing, from what I've seen, so we could still give this a try if you do actually really like doing that. I just… I felt like I should warn you."

Betty's expression has softened to the point of gentle amusement.

"You're so weird, Simon!" she laughs, her eyes twinkling behind oblong lenses.
"I know," he sighs, hoping that this sort of "weird" is a good thing.

After a moment, though, she answers.

"Yes, I'm a virgin. Call me outdated if you will, but I suppose I put a lot of value into something like that. I blame it on my upbringing."

"No, no, that's quite all right. My parents were of the same opinion."

"That being said, if I ever met the right man…"

Simon blushes.

And he decides, promptly, to change the subject.

"Okay, um, next question… what's your taste in music like?"

A little time later and after several more, less awkward questions, Betty's watch beeps.

"Wha… is that the time already? Sorry Simon, I need to head out now, I have a lab I need to finish."

"Oh… okay." He tries to keep the disappointment out of his voice. He was honestly enjoying his time with her, and he didn't want it to end this soon. He'd known that she was clever and aspiring to be a doctor, but he hadn't realized how much of a closet nerd she was. Not in a bad way. She caught a lot of his obscure references, and she honestly seemed interested in a lot of the hobbies he had mentioned. But… Would he have this chance again?

He chooses that moment to grow up a little, taking note that if he really likes Betty, he can't just wait for her to ask him out. If he really wants her to know how he feels… nervous or not… he can't wait for "just the right moment." He has to ask. Now.

"Hey Betty… what are you doing next weekend?"

A week later, a happy couple walks into the café, sitting down and chatting over a small latte and a cup of fine Earl Grey.