Opening up to people is not Darlene's thing; she enjoys keeping her guilty pleasures to herself. That's the whole point of them, right? Keeping details private prevents her from opening up too much, become too predictable and most dangerously, from forming connections. She doesn't want anyone to get hurt because of her anymore, and if the price to pay is a lack of genuine bonds, then it's a small price, really.

Yet, she wonders why she feels the need to spend her Sunday evenings watching reruns of CSI, a show she so fervently hates due to their technological inaccuracies. Somehow, the coldness of the Ben & Jerry's icecream she is holding in her hands doesn't quite compare to the coldness she can feel buried somewhere else.

A knock on the door, and Darlene is almost relieved that she can pause a particularly cringe-worthy scene and move to the door.

Her icecream-holding hand almost spasms and she starts feeling self-conscious about the oversized Batman t-shirt that she wears as pyjamas. The midsummer's heat wave justifies the lack of any sort of shorts, but it takes on a whole different meaning when the person standing in front of you is Angela, Elliot's uptight friend that is too technologically unaware to be part of fsociety, which Darlene has pointed out to the old man a few times and frankly, the woman just seems to itch her the wrong way.

Before Darlene can conjure up her sarcasm to shoo her away mercilessly, Angela opens her stupid, perfectly shaped mouth.

"I know this isn't really a good time to come over, and we're not exactly friends, but I really need a place to crash tonight and honestly, Elliot's place kind of creeps me out and all of my other friends just don't... get it."

The hacker sighs. She was about to interrupt when she heard the word "crash" because there is no way she was going to let this inexperienced and possibly vile blonde "crash" at her place; but she only understands too well how hard it is to keep friendships when everybody seems so happy, so carefree, so...blind.

She stares at the floor for a few seconds, allowing for the two sides in her mind to argue for a bit, but it's no use since the battle was already won when the door opened and blue eyes met brown. Darlene steps to the side and the blonde walks in with a shyness that is just too genuine to annoy the female.

Angela stops in her tracks, pauses for a few seconds and glances back at the hacker, an incredulous look on her face.

"What?" The brunette makes sure to not sound too eager to talk, because she has no interest in getting to know the blonde and keeping a cold exterior always makes them slowly walk away, after the initial interest.

"CSI, really? You of all people?"

Okay, this was a bad idea, she thinks. Not only does this woman invite herself into my apartment, my safe place, but also has the nerve to question my viewing choices? Has she not heard the kind of things I say at the arcade when people question my decisions?

Darlene would have loved to say that she had changed her mind and not let this turn into a girly slumber party (Angela has already removed her shoes and sat down on the sofa), but all that comes out is:

"They can be quite entertaining, and their understanding of the internet is more advanced than yours. Not that that's an achievement" She makes sure to shuffle in a mildly bored manner to the other end of the sofa, containing the smile that was about to creep on her face at the sight of the pure outrage dancing on Angela's features. This might turn out to be a fun evening after all.

It only took them two hours to stop feeling the awkwardness while sitting on the couch, which alarmed Darlene. The silence was almost...comforting. The rare friends that came over were usually fourty-somethings that smelled of smoke and were eager to help her test her newest rootkits. They were sweet, didn't ask too many questions and she even sometimes found that she genuinely enjoyed their company, yet, they were missing that little something. Yet, it had never felt that...

"Intimate. She was holding me close, and I inhaled her perfume, and-"

"Oh my god, Casey. You are so into her."

Darlene rolled her eyes at fictional Bert. There is no way that the writers of this show are actually trying. But oh, who is she trying to trick. That is what she loves about television: if you find the right series, you will be able to follow the plotline just enough to occupy your brain, while not having to actually think. Television is mind-control, as the old man says. Sweet, comforting oblivion.

An oblivion that makes her forget that the best line that TV has ever witnessed is about to be uttered.

"I'll create a GUI interface using Visual Basic, see if I can track an IP address..."

Even before the classic quote ends, Darlene's shoulders start shaking with an uncontrollable giggle. She can sense Angela's confusion.

"Oh, cut them some slack. I am pretty sure that they do not consider mysterious underground hackers to be their target demographic", she states, while leaning to get some popcorn from the bowl that is sitting on the other side of the brunette.

Darlene, due to her laughing fit, only opens her eyes when she smells a soft perfume (soft lavender, mixed with strawberry?) notifying her of the closeness. Just when Angela is about to lean back into her place, the hacker briskly turns her head so that they are face to face, which causes the blonde to freeze.

"So you find me mysterious, Ange?"

Angela's eyes grow wide and a blush quickly graces her cheeks. The brunette should not find this that satisfying, but she does, and decides to push it a bit further. A little messing around can't possibly hurt anyone, can it? She not-so-innocently takes some popcorn herself, grazing her hand against Angela's, which is frozen mid-bowl. Unexpectedly, Darlene gets caught in her own game, as right when their hands touch, an electric current passes through them. Angela jerks hers away rapidly, while Darlene just lowers hers, defeated. She turns her head nonchalantly towards the screen and says, a bit too loudly for it to be natural, something about the show, she can't remember anymore. All that Darlene could think about was lavender and heat. A heat that has to be suppressed if she doesn't want to experience a very, very inappropriate turn of events.