The green, grumpy German girl groused , “You hired me to deliver a bouquet?”
Dr.--unofficially--Drakken smiled what he hoped was a disarming smile. “Yes, as quickly as possible.”
She moued, very prettily as far as Drakken was concerned. “To whom?”
He handed the black jumpsuited woman an envelope of creamy seed paper.
Drakken was fairly sure that if she were truly put out by him this conversation would have truly ended with the trivial nature of the cargo. Ramona Wandblume had the reputation of dealing only in small exotics & valuables : she wouldn’t even consider thinking about couriering a collectable figurine less than two hundred & fifty U.S dollar-equivalent credit units. The dual facts that she had neither stormed out, nor reamed him out, but had agreed poutingly suggested that he had a beachhead from which to conduct further operations.
Wandblume opened the envelope, shook out the card into a palmy palm. Her eyebrows shot up once she hit the punchline.
“They’re lovely, dumpkof!” She smacked him across the head with a mixed assortment of hardy zero-gee blooms.
“Couldn’t you just have asked me out, like a...” She caught herself which was another sign that she was relaxed. Flower bedecked Dr. Drakken was elated : the evolving assignation was enthralling.
“...Normal guy?” He threw his blue arms skywards with a risible, vivacious bark of laughter : “What fun is normal?”
“None at all!” She brushed a sprig of baby’s breath off of his shoulder. “Vhat took you so long? I vasn’t exactly being subtle six months ago!”
“Between being Fen still-in-the-wrapper and never before really having any girlfriend experience, I would have missed a Vegas display of dating interest!”
“Vell then, time to start exposing you to girls...that did not come out vell?”
Dr. Drakken, was poleaxed for three point five seconds ; then giggling his guts out on moonrock : “It was a bit awkward,” He managed, bootstrapping himself off of the floor and out of a potentially mood killing explanation. “ but I know exactly what you meant!”
“Gut! Ve vill begin vith coffee und see.”
She dragged him into the fantastically convenient coffee shop, Lollygags.
Sweeping her eyes across the cozy little booths, faux pleather--doubly fake!--arm chairs, diode candles & plasteak wood decor, Wandblume declared : “A bit stiff, but It vill do!”
Drakken’s assessment was very esoteric: “Wow, Moon Boodle’s!”
The mustachioed man, listlessly polishing the same glass over and over, behind the bar intoned moodily, “More like Moon Boondoggle’s, sir.”
Sure enough the place was emptier than church on a Saturday night.
“Moon vas?!”
As they took their seats in a booth both slightly larger and more fun than a confessional, Drakken exposited : “Before I turned blue I was set upon weekend vacationing as H.G. Wells’ Victorian mad scientist, Professor Cavor. This,” He spun about slowly encompassing the establishment’s ersatz appeal in a out flung swing of arms. “is exactly like the secret Eidolon Sanctum room in Boodle's Gentlemen's club* where my slightly altered variant of Well’s scientist meets with the cream of society to ensure the Victorian space program!**
There was a glister in Ramona Wandblume’s eyes that fought and lost against the slightest of scowls as she watched her date’s waltzing reverie unfold : they was the outward manifestations of her inner verdict regarding his geek gusto. She found it as perplexingly sexy now as the first time she had met him six months previously.
Drakken only enhanced her consideration of him through a bit of banter with the barman.
“It’s like this all of the time?”
“All of the time, sir.” Drakken was beginning to see less of a man and more of a bipedal bar tending Eeyore.
“This must be the only not bright orange bubble-tea establishment on the whole of Luna!”
“I reckon so, sir.” Drakken was now fairly confident that the listless laborer sported a detachable pink ribboned tail blocked from view by the dark fake wood and actual brass of the bar.
“Tapioca is not a beverage!”
“Yes, sir.”
“I, my good man, can not in good conscience let such an excellent establishment go by the wayside!”
This was said with such ardor that, even in the eyes of Eeyore, a fragile flickering of faith fired faintly.
“That would be appreciated, sir.”
Wandblume strongly suspected that it wasn’t just bluster on the part of the slightly maddening man that was attaining approval in the metaphorical atria of her affections.
She was correct.
*****
*Boodle’s exists : the Eidolon Sanctum does not.
**More than a slight alteration of H.G. Well’s, The First Men in the Moon.
Dr.--unofficially--Drakken smiled what he hoped was a disarming smile. “Yes, as quickly as possible.”
She moued, very prettily as far as Drakken was concerned. “To whom?”
He handed the black jumpsuited woman an envelope of creamy seed paper.
Drakken was fairly sure that if she were truly put out by him this conversation would have truly ended with the trivial nature of the cargo. Ramona Wandblume had the reputation of dealing only in small exotics & valuables : she wouldn’t even consider thinking about couriering a collectable figurine less than two hundred & fifty U.S dollar-equivalent credit units. The dual facts that she had neither stormed out, nor reamed him out, but had agreed poutingly suggested that he had a beachhead from which to conduct further operations.
Wandblume opened the envelope, shook out the card into a palmy palm. Her eyebrows shot up once she hit the punchline.
“They’re lovely, dumpkof!” She smacked him across the head with a mixed assortment of hardy zero-gee blooms.
“Couldn’t you just have asked me out, like a...” She caught herself which was another sign that she was relaxed. Flower bedecked Dr. Drakken was elated : the evolving assignation was enthralling.
“...Normal guy?” He threw his blue arms skywards with a risible, vivacious bark of laughter : “What fun is normal?”
“None at all!” She brushed a sprig of baby’s breath off of his shoulder. “Vhat took you so long? I vasn’t exactly being subtle six months ago!”
“Between being Fen still-in-the-wrapper and never before really having any girlfriend experience, I would have missed a Vegas display of dating interest!”
“Vell then, time to start exposing you to girls...that did not come out vell?”
Dr. Drakken, was poleaxed for three point five seconds ; then giggling his guts out on moonrock : “It was a bit awkward,” He managed, bootstrapping himself off of the floor and out of a potentially mood killing explanation. “ but I know exactly what you meant!”
“Gut! Ve vill begin vith coffee und see.”
She dragged him into the fantastically convenient coffee shop, Lollygags.
Sweeping her eyes across the cozy little booths, faux pleather--doubly fake!--arm chairs, diode candles & plasteak wood decor, Wandblume declared : “A bit stiff, but It vill do!”
Drakken’s assessment was very esoteric: “Wow, Moon Boodle’s!”
The mustachioed man, listlessly polishing the same glass over and over, behind the bar intoned moodily, “More like Moon Boondoggle’s, sir.”
Sure enough the place was emptier than church on a Saturday night.
“Moon vas?!”
As they took their seats in a booth both slightly larger and more fun than a confessional, Drakken exposited : “Before I turned blue I was set upon weekend vacationing as H.G. Wells’ Victorian mad scientist, Professor Cavor. This,” He spun about slowly encompassing the establishment’s ersatz appeal in a out flung swing of arms. “is exactly like the secret Eidolon Sanctum room in Boodle's Gentlemen's club* where my slightly altered variant of Well’s scientist meets with the cream of society to ensure the Victorian space program!**
There was a glister in Ramona Wandblume’s eyes that fought and lost against the slightest of scowls as she watched her date’s waltzing reverie unfold : they was the outward manifestations of her inner verdict regarding his geek gusto. She found it as perplexingly sexy now as the first time she had met him six months previously.
Drakken only enhanced her consideration of him through a bit of banter with the barman.
“It’s like this all of the time?”
“All of the time, sir.” Drakken was beginning to see less of a man and more of a bipedal bar tending Eeyore.
“This must be the only not bright orange bubble-tea establishment on the whole of Luna!”
“I reckon so, sir.” Drakken was now fairly confident that the listless laborer sported a detachable pink ribboned tail blocked from view by the dark fake wood and actual brass of the bar.
“Tapioca is not a beverage!”
“Yes, sir.”
“I, my good man, can not in good conscience let such an excellent establishment go by the wayside!”
This was said with such ardor that, even in the eyes of Eeyore, a fragile flickering of faith fired faintly.
“That would be appreciated, sir.”
Wandblume strongly suspected that it wasn’t just bluster on the part of the slightly maddening man that was attaining approval in the metaphorical atria of her affections.
She was correct.
*****
*Boodle’s exists : the Eidolon Sanctum does not.
**More than a slight alteration of H.G. Well’s, The First Men in the Moon.