Survival Of The Fittest

((Bobby Barron cont'd from Courtyard Classics))

Bobby was nervous. How on earth was he going to get through this night. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt like this. He was sat in the back of his Uncle's Limo, on loan for the night, complete with liveried chauffeur, fully decked out in a tailored tux. His parents had spared no expense for him this evening, so much so that he felt bad in accepting it all. Still, he had to admit that it all looked fantastic.

The car pulled up outside Rachel's house. Again, he checked himself over. Hair styled, white tux jacket immaculate, as were his black pants. Breath mints, corsage and another, special gift for his date, all in his hands or pockets. Daniel, his chauffeur for the evening turned back towards him. "We're here, master Robert." He hated being called that, but Daniel insisted.

"Thanks, Daniel. I'll just be a few minutes." He stepped out of the white stretch limo, and took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. He popped a tic-tac into his mouth, and smoothed his jacket down. He could get through this night. Rachel was friendly with him. He just hoped that she wasn't taking it as something more, that he wanted a deeper romantic relationship with her. He swallowed the mint, stepped up to her door and pressed the bell.

((Rachel Gettys continued from Asian Impact))

Rachel had spent hours upon hours preparing for the upcoming event of events, the Bayview Prom. She'd been straightening, ironing, selecting, accessorizing, preening - if there was an -ing she hadn't done, it wasn't worth doing. Finally, after seven hours of altering her hair, make-up, dress, shoes, bag and everything and anything else it was possible to alter without extensive surgery, Rachel Gettys stood in front of the full-length mirror in the corner of her spacious, immaculately-appointed bedroom. Rachel had finally settled on a svelte burgundy number with matching shoes and accessories, a sleeveless dress with a halter neckline and the back cut relatively low - leave the rest to his imagination, Rachel caught herself reasoning as she picked it out, but she quickly quelled that un-Christian thought and replaced it with a justification far more consistent with her religious leanings.

Rachel smoothed down the dress and allowed herself a quick spin. Completing the 360 and finding herself facing the mirror, she gave a little smirk and tossed her hair back. She couldn't deny that she was excited about the prom in some small way - after all, she was going with Robert, and she'd been sizing him up as potential husband material since freshman year - but her cool exterior would always win through, even now. And besides, it wasn't as if she was attracted to Robert in any romantic sense - he just made good husband material. If he didn't meet tonight's expectations, that would be it. That will be it.

The doorbell rang, and Rachel gave out a startled yelp. Her eyes darted around, as if she were looking for witnesses to her sudden and brief cute humiliation, and when satisfied that no-one had seen her jump, she moved to the window, peeking through a curtain.

A limousine. He's certainly off to a good start.

Rachel clambered in her high heels to the other side of the room and opened the door. "Don't worry, daddy," she shouted in a polite tone, "I'll get it!" She continued her scramble to the door, gingerly stomping down the stairs and haphazardly charging through the corridor and to the door. She stopped outside the door, smoothed herself down again, and opened it.

"Robert!"

She was right about that - in front of her did stand Robert Barron, bedecked in black and white fabrics that had been fashioned into a garment most flattering and most stunning. His carefully-teased hair and smooth jaw and piercing eyes and shiny shoes all took Rachel Gettys by surprise.

For the first time in her life, Rachel was left speechless because of a boy.

Oh no.

"Hi."

She opened the door to him. She was radiant. There was no other word for it. Bobby had known Rachel for years, but as she opened the door, it was like it was the first time he had laid eyes on her. There was a sharp intake of breath. Then he remembered who he was, where he was. He had a reputation to maintain. He turned on the charm.

"Hi Rachel. You look… stunning. There's no other word for it." His teeth showing, he took in the vision fully. He really shouldn't have expected less from her. In many ways, she would have been in ideal girlfriend for him. She always provided him with a drive that he usually lacked, gave him focus. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Nobody need ever know. It wouldn't be a bad life.

As quickly as the thoughts entered his head, he dismissed them. It wouldn't be fair on Rachel, nor would it be on him. Neither of them deserved to settle. Rachel could have any man that she wanted. She didn't have to have some guy who only pretended to love her. Still, this evening was something else. He had to provide her with everything that she'd want from her prom, no matter how clichéd. Besides, it wasn;t as though she'd want to sleep with him at the end of the night. Rachel was a good Catholic girl.

He moved in towards her, corsage at the ready. "May I?"

"Hi Rachel. You look… stunning. There's no other word for it."

Rachel almost, almost giggled. The almost was key - had she stifled it but a second later, and Robert would've been looking at Rachel Gettys, hormonal thirteen-year-old girl on her first date, not Rachel Gettys, the refined eighteen-year-old senior with the world in the palm of her hands. Stopping the infantile laugh in its tracks, Rachel replaced it with a sincere smile and a slight tip of the head. "You flatter me, Bobby," she said casually, "when clearly the roses should be thrown at your feet. You look adequate," she added, chuckling slightly.

Rachel stood there for a second, grinning at him. The space between compliments was getting awkward, and Rachel wasn't one to break silences by blurting out whatever came to her head - which was good, as what was coming into her head was decidedly forward and un-lady-like. Thankfully, Robert broke the silence with a quick move in. Rachel's pulse started racing inexplicably - well, not inexplicably, but still - even as she noticed he was simply leaning in to administer a recommended dose of beautiful white corsage.

"May I?" Whether he intended for it to be seductive or not, Robert's simple question certainly came out that way. Rachel calmed herself and replied coolly, "You may." As he applied the corsage, Rachel glanced around him at the limousine on the road. She had expected no less from Robert, but it was still a bit of a surprise seeing it actually there. "Your parents certainly went all out tonight, Robert," she remarked. "You Barrons certainly know how to make a girl feel elegant."

Adequate? He looked a damn sight better than adequate. He knew he did. He'd spent ages making sure that every detail was perfect. He speculated he probably put in at least as much effort as most girls for the evening, and twice as much as the guys. Then he heard the slight chuckle. She was making fun. Trust Rachel. If anybody was going to try and burst his bubble, it'd be her. Still, he was grateful that she was clearly impressed.

Taking his opportunity to further impress, he was able to smoothly put the corsage on. The fact that he wasn't fumbling about, worried about touching her breasts, he supposed was an advantage that he had. He really didn't see the appeal. Give him something with some muscle to feel any day. If only he could…

"Your parents certainly went all out tonight, Robert. You Barrons certainly know how to make a girl feel elegant."

He snapped back to reality at once. This was not the time to be thinking like that. The night was for Rachel. "Well, we do try. Please, don't go thinking that we spent a fortune on all of this, though. The Limo isn't hired, it's on loan from my uncle. In fact, this is probably the most expensive item I laid out for." He reached into his tux pocket, and produced a small box, clearly from a jeweller. He flipped the lid open to reveal an intricate silver crucifix.

"I hope you like it. It's real silver. I just wanted to give you something a bit more personal than the corsage." He smiled at her again. He'd spent almost $500 on it. Not that he would ever tell her that. After he'd seen it, he knew that he should give it to Rachel at graduation, just to say thanks for being there for him for all the years. He'd saved up for 3 months to be able to afford it from his allowance. Eventually, he had to explain to his parents what it was for, and that they'd gladly paid the balance. He held the box out, hoping that she'd accept it in the spirit that it was given.

"Well, we do try. Please, don't go thinking that we spent a fortune on all of this, though. The Limo isn't hired, it's on loan from my uncle. In fact, this is probably the most expensive item I laid out for."

The limo's on loan from his uncle? That's actually fairly impre...wait, what?

Rachel's gaze darted to the thin black box in Robert's hands. She knew immediately where it was from, because she sourced most of her jewelery from the place - Village Jewelers, only one of the most highly-regarded lapidaries in the city. Her heart did a gymnastics routine inside her as her prom date eased open the lid, revealing an ornate, stunning silver crucifix. Rachel could've sworn that some unearthly light was emanating from it, but that would have been ridiculous. She picked the delicate necklace up by the chain, dangling it in front of her eyes. "It's...it's beautiful, Robert." Her heart pumping, her hormones flaring, her mind spinning, she briefly took leave of her sense and engulfed Robert in a world-stopping hug.

"This is amazing," Rachel managed without sounding like she was in the middle of a chemically-induced high. "You are amazing, Robert Barron."

Relinquishing her grip on the boy and stepping back, Rachel could barely hide her beaming smile. She smoothed down her dress, now wrinkled from her zealous embrace, and glanced at the limo again.

"Shall we be off, Mr. Barron?"

He hadn't been certain what her reaction was going to be, but he hadn't expected something that extreme from Rachel. The hug seemed totally out of character for her. Was the crucifix really that big a deal for her? Maybe he'd made a mistake. Still, she deserved it. And it was just a hug after all. Bobby, you need to calm down with the paranoia here. She's not going to try and get into your pants. You don't have to worry about that.

And almost as soon as she had grabbed him, she released him. He couldn't help but grin as she smoothed herself down, almost as if she recognised that the hug was outwith the persona that she normally presented to the world. The fact that Bobby was someone that she was able to be that open and honest with meant a lot to him. Almost as much as the words that she had said to him. Amazing.

She was back in control of herself now. Back in charge. And Bobby knew that he would be following her lead for the rest of the evening. That was fine with him. He was used to it, and had been for several years now. Bobby was not a natural leader, and Rachel was. He guessed that was one of the reasons that they clicked so well. It was also why he was always there to support her when she needed him.

She directed them back out to the limo. "Certainly, Ms Gettys. Your carriage awaits." He winced inwardly at the cliché. Still, it was prom. There was a ritual to it. In it's own way, he figured, to some girls, it was even more sacred than mass. Whether Rachel would feel quite that way, he doubted, but he had to assume that she was expecting a lot of the evening. And he had to fulfil her expectations. He opened the door to the limo, and adopted a footman like pose. "I hope that the evening will be as magical as you want it to be."

Rachel didn't even wait for Robert to finish his sentence. She darted past him and was at the limousine inhumanly quickly, especially so given her slightly precarious heels. She beamed at him in a semi-ironic manner as she waited for him to come and open the door for her, to which he obliged with zeal. Tick.

"I hope that the evening will be as magical as you want it to be," he said, his tone wholly genuine.

"Oh, I believe it shall be, Mr. Barron," she teased as she slid herself into the backseat of aGood grief.

The limousine's interior was, for want of a better word, amazing. It wasn't one of those tacky Super Sweet 16 ones with the purple fluorescent lights and white walls. It was, in fact, of a more classical aesthetic - walnut paneled-doors and benches, black leather seats, atmospheric lighting that wasn't coming out of some ugly PVC monstrosities, a tasteful minibar with a selection of high-end beverages, alcoholic and otherwise. Of course, Rachel didn't drink, and she wouldn't be proud of Robert if he did, but it was prom. A lot of things became excusable when one had a pretty dress and a handsome date.

Rachel's mouth was still agape at the class of the limousine as Robert followed her in. All she could manage was a slightly pathetic, "Robert...it's fantastic..." before clamping her mouth shut and giggling a slightly forced giggle. She didn't want him to think she was awestruck, after all - that wasn't an image befitting her.

Rachel was impressed, he could tell. Even though she may be trying to hide it from him, she was enjoying herself. As he clambered into the limousine behind her, as elegantly as he could manage, he found himself smiling at her enthusiasm. "Rachel, it's okay. You're allowed to be excited. It's me. You're allowed to relax and be yourself."

A part of him winced at his hypocrisy. How much of the evening was him doing his best not to be himself? Then again, he reflected, how much of it was him wanting to be himself, and not worry about the whole gay thing. Just to go and spend an evening with his closest friend, where he could relax, and not have to worry about his crush on Erik, or what happened when he told his parents. He felt emboldened.

"So, Rachel. I've been told we can help ourselves to the minibar. I'm sure there's some soda in here, a few bottles of fresh orange, if you want anything like that. Apart from that, we're here to have a good time, so please, relax. Enjoy yourself. And stop me talking like I'm some kind of host. Please."

Robert had clambered in behind her, and made mention about her relaxing. Impossible, Rachel thought to herself as she took in the limousine and the night lined up for her. It was prom night; relaxing was not on the cards, not for a second.

"So, Rachel. I've been told we can help ourselves to the minibar. I'm sure there's some soda in here, a few bottles of fresh orange, if you want anything like that. Apart from that, we're here to have a good time, so please, relax. Enjoy yourself. And stop me talking like I'm some kind of host. Please."

Rachel turned to Robert, who was now sitting beside her, his suit a bit askew due to his less-than-graceful entrance into the limo. "Robert Barron," she said with an affected formality, mocking his concern, "Your hospitality is exquisite, and I shall be looking forward to any future party that you so wish to invite me to." She laughed, and clambered over to the minibar as the limo lurched into movement. She opened the fridge and took a quick glance at what was inside, taking in its non-alcoholic contents. She picked out a couple of small bottles of ginger ale, and held one out to her date. "Shall we?"

((Sorry about the delay))

Bobby tried his best to relax. He accepted the ginger beer gladly. Unscrewed the cap and took a swig. The fizz went up his nose, and he tried to remain calm and collected. Rachel still seemed a little stiff and formal, but hopefully she'd be able to really let her hair down and enjoy herself as the night progressed.

He was conscious of their proximity, so close that he could feel the heat coming off her body. They'd been this close before, sat together on buses and in cars, but somehow, this felt different. Was it because it was ‘a date'? he played the host as best he could as they sped towards the school.

Once they arrived, he kept going. Daniel got out the car and opened the door to let them out onto the sidewalk, much to the envy of those stood out by the entrance. Certainly, they made a striking couple. And whilst he doubted either was popular to get the king and queen, they certainly looked the part. Offering his hand as he turned to face the doorway, he smiled again at Rachel. "Come, my dear. Let's show these people how to really make an entrance."

((Bobby cont'd in The Dance Must go on!))

Robert took the non-alcoholic beverage in its classy little container, and Rachel went to work on her own, unscrewing the cap in record time and chugging it down with gay abandon. It wasn't exactly the most distinguished thing to be doing in front of Robert, but she wasn't really fussed with that at this stage. It wasn't as though Robert was going to besmirch her reputation by telling everyone at prom how rapidly she had sculled a small bottle of ginger beer.

Before she had even had time to sink into the lush leather seats, the limo screeched a little unceremoniously to a halt outside the pseudo-modern recreational centre. Guess it was a little bit much to expect the scenic route, she thought somewhat bitterly. It wasn't often she got to ride in limousines, even if daddy had the money and connections to ensure it. She wasn't that knowingly ostentatious.

The chauffeur walked around and opened the door for them. The crisp, cool night air whistled through the opening for a second, sending a shiver down Rachel's spine. Robert turned to her and held his hand out, debonair as always.

"Come, my dear. Let's show these people how to really make an entrance."

"Don't mind if I do," Rachel replied, taking Robert's hand and gingerly stepping out of the limousine. "Don't mind if I do."

((Rachel Gettys continued elsewhere))