teaic | (no subject)

WHO: Briony Cavanaugh and Aiden Kennedy
WHERE: Prom!
WHEN: Past Saturday night
WHAT: Briony and Aiden catch their breath
WARNINGS: None other than light gossip

There were many things Briony didn’t miss the slightest bit from her past: balls pointedly did not make the list. In fact, if there was one thing the modern day lacked, it was grand galas where everyone could be expected to know the steps to at least a handful of dances. That was just one of the reasons she doubted she’d ever be able to leave TEA fully behind. It could be reasonably assumed that a group of time travelers would have enough people who knew how to dance to afford a few significant events like Eras Prom a year– events that would allow her to dance the night away to her heart’s content.

She’d finished her dance with Jack and freed him to return to the old man corner while she sought out a glass of punch before going in search of her next victim. Punch was another thing that outperformed her day; it had infinitely more flavor than the weak lemonade she remembered from her youth.

Aiden was no stranger to loud gatherings. He had grown up in a neighborhood where everyone was family, love shown by increasing one’s voice to be heard over the utter madness. Unending Thursday nights filled with trivia where everyone was right except for the emcee. Sundays spent trying to beat everyone’s gossip as they gathered around the table for Mum’s roast. His cherished Tuesday morning FaceTimes with Ma as she yelled into the phone.

So the noise tonight wasn’t overwhelming for him as it was for some of his colleagues. He craved the socialization while some disassociated from it, and his voice was beginning to turn rough around the edges when he watched, amused, as Dr. Wren pulled an Irish exit from the conversation he had been having.

But Aiden couldn’t be too upset as the new gap in the sea of bodies revealed Briony, flushed from dancing or the cup of punch in her hand, and his hand lifted in a wave when her eyes landed on him.

Occasionally, the perfect victim was dropped into her lap. Briony eschewed the wave to instead approach Aiden with a delighted smile. He was dressed similarly to Jack in a crisp black suit, though he’d gone without the spats. One of her favourite things about Eras Prom was the spectrum of outfit choices made by the party-goers. She’d seen Raj decked out in leather, while Grant, one of the new interns, stood beside him in a shirt that appeared to be held together with safety pins. They’d been chatting with Mallory, who looked like a princess in her Grace Kelly inspired gown, the juxtaposition of looks somehow forming an odd sort of cohesion.

If she was honest, she did prefer the classics: Teddy’s regency gown, Cris’ 1920’s showstopper, and Aiden’s well-tailored suit.

“How goes the mingling?” She asked with a teasing lilt once she’d closed the distance between them, side-stepping the less spatially aware members of the crowd. “Making good connections?”

He cupped her elbow and steered her towards a safer spot in the room, his tall frame and her voluminous gown easily parting the crowd.

“I think Dr. Wren might have been on the verge of remembering my name before he walked away,” he boasted, a dimple appearing when he directed his smile at his fellow Brit. There was no denying that his department head was brilliant, but it was a poorly kept secret that the man was much more likely to remember the day you joined than your name. “So I’d call it a successful night. How was the dance floor?”

“What a feat.” Her eyes danced with amusement as she allowed herself to be led, tipping back her head to be able to properly see Aiden’s face. “That’s akin to him naming you as his successor.” She laughed, looking back from him to the crowd, the smile remaining on her face as she watched their coworkers mix and mingle. There was nothing like seeing everyone together, watching all the different departments break their silos to enjoy a bit of fancy dress and tiny sandwiches.

Aiden took the time to study Briony as she watched the people around them, a soft smile on his face as he watched the joy and fondness for her friends flit across her timeless features. She truly looked resplendent in her tiered gown, the light bouncing off the crystals as she moved and complimenting the way her eyes glowed with excitement

“The dance floor was lovely, as ever. I bullied Jack and a handful of interns into dancing with me and pulled Teddy into the photo booth.” She flicked her eyes back to him, her eyebrows raised expectantly.

Quick as a flash, his features were schooled by the time she turned her attention back to him, amusement replacing affection as he wished for a drink to shield his reddened cheeks from her.

“We’ve decided that if we ever need to escape, we’ll vanish into the 1990s. Naturally, we needed to take some pictures with the backdrop to see if we could pull it off.” She paused. “I think our gowns spoiled the effect slightly.”

“Never apologize for being the best dressed in a room,” Aiden told her, holding his hand out for her so he could spin her under his arm to get a better view of her gown. “I think you could pull this off in any decade of your choosing.”

Briony took his hand and gave a slow twirl, the fabric of her skirts giving a soft swishing sound as she moved that never failed to return her to the past. “Flatterer,” she said with a laugh. Spin completed, she came to a stop facing him, feeling dizzy in a way that had little to do with the movement. Despite her years of exposure, she still found herself feeling as if she’d been clubbed over the head occasionally when faced with the full force of his dimpled grin.

“We were going for grunge,” she added, leaning in slightly as a smile flitted across her face. “I might have mentioned flannel and ripped jeans.” Her hand gestured to her dress, her nose scrunched and lips pursed into an expression of skepticism. “Not quite the vibe of the evening.”

“I think Grant might disagree with you there,” he said, tearing his gaze away from hers to flick towards the towering intern in question, “but you could have pulled it off. Next time,” he offered, giving her hand a squeeze to make sure she was ready to sever the connection before he did something incredibly reckless like pulling her in closer to his side, “let me know and I’ll pull out an old concert shirt to complete the look.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for future.” She gave his hand a business-like shake, sealing the deal before releasing him to stand beside him. “What do we think about that?” The nod of her head in the direction of Raj and Grant indicated exactly what she meant by ’that’. “Grant is wearing a chain with Raj’s name on it. Moving a bit fast, isn’t it?”

“My hat’s off to his jeweler for turning that around so quickly,” Aiden candidly quipped as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

Briony tilted her head to the side as if the skewed angle might help align the disjointed picture. “Unless it’s all a bit.” She glanced back up at Aiden, the shrug implied, if not physically done. “Raj isn’t really the sort that I’d think would do this as a bit, and Grant… he seemed like he cared more about the work than the socializing.”

Aiden’s head mirrored hers as it tilted to the side, squinting as he approached his assessment like one of the codes he dedicated himself to cracking. He didn’t know the pair well enough to truly form an opinion, but it was an awful lot of energy to put into a networking event. But, with the metaphorical torch for Briony he carried burning a hole in his hand, he wasn’t the best person to dole out advice about what was an acceptable timeline on dating. Ironic, considering they were all meant to be timeline experts.

“No, but I think it’s trying to make some sort of point,” he admitted, his shrug pulling his jacket tightly across his shoulder, “what, I don’t know. It’s a bit too Taylor Swift coded to not be an Easter egg.”

With a thoughtful hum, Briony nodded in agreement. “There is something romantic about it,” she mused, her eyes softening in a way that was slightly antithetical to the image the two men posed in their leather getups. “Maybe it was love at first sight,” she continued dreamily, “or maybe they’ve a history. Wouldn’t that be lovely? If they found each other again?”

“Would be one heck of a story,” Aiden agreed, tugging his shirtsleeves down as hearts appeared in Briony’s eyes and turning away from the couple to give them a bit of privacy; knowing how easy it was to have eyes drawn to his person simply due to his height, let alone speculation of his romantic status.

Which was pretty much nonexistent, but that was alright by him (but not by his mums.)

“Don’t let me hold you back,” he said, giving her a reassuring smile as he glanced around for her housemates.

The unexpected nature of the statement returned her feet to the ground and drew her attention back to her conversation partner with a bemused smile. “From?” A brief pause followed her words until his meaning clicked in with a clunk of her mental gears. “I'm not going to go ask them, Aiden. That would be ridiculous.” The thought alone was enough to trigger a laugh. Laugh lines deepened around his blue eyes in response. “No, no. That wouldn't do. I'm going to instead speculate wildly, like the lady I am.”

“Naturally,” he murmured, his laughter mixing with hers as heads turned curiously in their direction at the sudden noise, “apologies. I momentarily forgot I was in the company of a bonafide lady.”

“It's a good thing my innate sense of noblesse oblige compels me to forgive you,” she said in her crispest accent, doing a remarkably good job at looking down her nose at a man a foot taller than her. That is, until the giggles broke back through the mask she'd never been terribly skilled at holding. She'd never had a chance at keeping it up with the sound of his laughter sliding like a spoonful of honey down the back of her throat, radiating warmth all throughout her.

“We should dance,” she said suddenly, “I was looking for my next partner, and here you are. Danceless.”

Aiden folded an arm behind his back and extended the other towards her, large palm facing up in an invitation. His sisters would club him over the head if he didn’t take the obvious opening here, but he wouldn’t ruin the chance to keep the smile on her face. It was one of his favorite things he had discovered since coming here, a code that he took very seriously to crack.

“What are you waiting for?” he teased, cocking his head towards the makeshift dance floor as the song came to an end, “I thought you’d never ask.”