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07 October 2007 @ 04:35 pm
April 24, 1995  
House ducked behind a bunker and crouched down, holding his paintball rifle close to his chest. He was breathing quickly from having run across the paintball arena, dodging paintball ammunition from opponents. He was sweating somewhat from how hot it was inside the mask he had to wear, not to mention the thick camoflage clothing he was in; thick to prevent injury should he get hit from an oncoming paintball pellet.

It was an indoor paintball centre, this particular part done up to look like woodlands. This whole paintball thing was a birthday party a friend of his had thrown for another friend, so House wasn't too familiar with half the people that he was running around, playing army combat with. Not that he cared – he was having a blast.

He waddled crouched down on his knees towards the end of the bunker and peered out around the corner for any opponents. The area looked clear, so House stood up and darted out from behind the bunker to sprint towards another bunker nearby. Just as he did, he spotted an opponent, and quickly raised his rifle to aim, and fired.
 
 
 
Stacy Warner: stacy 3harvard_law on October 7th, 2007 06:41 am (UTC)
Prior to today, Stacy had never played paintball before. And it had taken Gary several days to convince her to do it-- she was hardly the athletic type. She'd just never felt the inclination, and right now, she felt like a fool in the camouflage jumpsuit and bulky helmet, not to mention the gun in her hands.

But she had no time to think about that.

Paintballs flew at her from every direction, and she ducked behind a small bunker in the corner, hoping to stay out of the line of fire and make this as painless as it could possibly be.

Suddenly, though, a paintball flew past her helmet, hitting the wall behind her. Her eyes widened and she looked at the direction it came from-- another bunker. And she thought, hell, while she was here, she might as well use the gun in her hands. So she held it up to her shoulder-- rather awkwardly-- and aimed it at the bunker across from hers, and took several shots.
sans_pickles on October 7th, 2007 06:53 am (UTC)
House crouched back behind the bunker, but then changed his mind and stood back up to see if he'd actually hit his opponent. Turned out he'd poked his head out too far because just as he did, the opponent he thought he'd hit was firing back at him and almost hit him. Stupidly, he launched himself out of hiding and started trying to dodge the onslaught of paintball ammo - and managed to get himself under cover unscathed, but only just.

Creeping up along the side of the new bunker he was hiding behind, he quickly stood up to see where the opponent was, spotted her (and he could tell it was a her by how clumsily she held the rifle) and then aimed to take a shot. And missed.

He ducked back down, and fired a couple of blind shots before he sprinted out into the clearing again and started running towards another bunker even closer to the opponent.
Stacy Warner: heart conditionharvard_law on October 7th, 2007 06:57 am (UTC)
Stacy saw the man sprint out and dive out, dodging the ammo that came toward him, and he instantly struck her as being very athletic, the way he ran and jumped without any regard for his own safety or well-being. She was the opposite, sitting down, taking cover behind the bunker and thinking about how the hell she got into this. She heard people yelling, laughing, and the guns going off.

Slowly, she looked back up again, and saw the man running out of cover again, and she took the opportunity to lift the gun again, taking a few shots at him as he ran, holding the gun tightly to minimize the recoil.
sans_pickles on October 7th, 2007 07:07 am (UTC)
He was going to make it to the next bunker. And when he got there, he was going to bring that damn opponent down who kept shooting at him. Anyone could shoot down a woman who had no clue how to handle a paintball rifle.

Just as he neared the bunker, he went to take a long stride towards it - and suddenly felt something sharp catch him on the left shoulder blade. He'd been shot.

He instantly yelled out in surprise and pain, and stumbled over his feet as he attempted to both clutch at his shoulder reflexively and take cover at the same time.

He failed at the latter, finding himself sprawling out clumsily onto his front. He rolled over onto his side, grabbing at his shoulder because, god damn, that hurt.
Stacy Warnerharvard_law on October 7th, 2007 07:13 am (UTC)
Stacy's eyes widened in surprise when she saw the bright yellow paint splatter all over the camouflage suit he was wearing, and she was even more surprised when she saw him fall. On some level, she was incredibly proud of herself for having done something constructive, but she was also worried about possibly having hurt him, being too close when she shot him.

Thankfully, the game ended at that point-- a loud buzzer sounded, and she instantly stood up, going over to the man, who was lying down on the floor, rolled on his side and clutching his shoulder.

"I'm really sorry!" she called, taking off the helmet she was wearing and moving to him, leaning over him. "Are you okay?"
sans_pickles on October 7th, 2007 07:21 am (UTC)
House gave his shoulder a tentative roll and then turned onto his back as he heard the woman calling out to him. Propping himself up onto his elbow, he lifted his other hand to his helmet and pried it off his sweaty face, gave his forehead a wipe with his sleeve, and then looked up at the woman with a deadpan expression.

"You shot me," he replied. "Do I look okay?"

He wasn't actually that bothered, just had a bit of a bruised ego that a woman pathetic at shooting had managed to get him. Using his sleeve to wipe more of his face, he grunted as he rolled his shoulder again and gave the woman another look.
Stacy Warner: black and whiteharvard_law on October 7th, 2007 07:25 am (UTC)
Stacy looked at him, rolling her eyes at the expression he gave her. The initial guilt from hitting him subsided-- he seemed like he was being a bit dramatic, because he seemed embarrassed that she'd actually hit him. And that kind of attitude didn't sit that well with her.

"Well, sorry," she said. "I don't exactly know how to aim for the parts of your body where it would hurt less."

She shrugged, leaning down to him. Her lip curled slightly as she looked down at him, still on his back and staring up at her. And she offered her hand to him, to help him up.

"Be thankful it didn't hit you anywhere else."
sans_pickles on October 7th, 2007 07:30 am (UTC)
"I'll just thank god you didn't aim at a spot where it would've hurt more," he replied tartly. Like his butt. Or between his legs. Holy hell.

He eyed her hand, then darted his eyes back up to her face. No way was he going to take her hand to be helped up. On the other hand, she was kind of hot. Still, he wasn't going to let a woman think he was incapable of helping himself up, especially after said woman had shot him.

He ignored her hand in favour of getting himself to his knees, then up to his feet, and looked down at her once he was standing tall.

"That was just a lucky shot," he added.
Stacy Warner: stacy 2harvard_law on October 7th, 2007 07:35 am (UTC)
Stacy shrugged when he ignored her hand, and she looked to the side, over at everyone else. They were all filing out of the room, but she didn't move just yet, looking up at the man indignantly.

"I still hit you."

Now that he was standing in front of her, looking down at her, she could take him in. He was good-looking, she thought. Handsome, very nice eyes, five o'clock shadow. But his attitude certainly left a little something to be desired. Nonetheless, she pushed back at him a bit.

"If you're such an expert, why didn't you hit me?" she asked. "Too much of a gentleman?"
sans_pickles on October 7th, 2007 07:47 am (UTC)
He narrowed his eyes at her. "So what if I am?" he shot back. "Maybe I was just waiting for an opportune moment. Seeing how clumsy you were holding that thing?" He gestured at her rifle. "That would've been mean of me to shoot the weak. That'd be like picking on the uncool kid in the playground."

He stooped down to grab up his helmet from the floor, then stood tall again. Just as he did, someone called from off the field for them to hurry up. He glanced at them and then looked back to the woman.

"Thanks for the shot. Hope it was as fun for you as it was for me."

He didn't move off straight away, though; he lingered for a moment, watching her face curiously, before he started to face away to head off the floor.
Stacy Warnerharvard_law on October 7th, 2007 07:51 am (UTC)
Stacy laughed, half in amusement and half in annoyance at how stubborn he was. It was typical of a man, she thought. He couldn't admit that it was a woman that shot him. And she shook her head, reaching for her helmet and rifle. She had put them down when she'd offered to help him up.

"It was."

She followed him as they headed for the door and back into the equipment room, to give the outfits, helmets, and guns back. But before she headed to the counter, though, she leaned a bit closer to him.

"Don't feel bad," she teased quietly. "Yellow's a good color on you."

And she walked off to the counter.
sans_pickles on October 7th, 2007 07:59 am (UTC)
He dumped everything down once he'd removed the clothes, giving the person in charge of the equipment a sour look. He darted his eyes towards the woman who kept following him, and gave her an even sourer look when she told him not to feel bad. And yet, as she walked off, he started smiling to himself in amusement.

Suddenly intrigued by her and how she could hold her own around him in the few minutes they'd met, he started after her, dodging around people to catch up. When he finally reached her, he fell into step and threw her a curious look.

"Why should I feel bad?" he asked. "You're the one who shot me. You should be the one feeling bad."
Stacy Warner: stacy 3harvard_law on October 7th, 2007 08:06 am (UTC)
Stacy turned, surprised that he'd followed her. A part of her was annoyed that he had, but despite his already-prominent ego and stubbornness, she would admit that he was intriguing. Or, well, at least very good-looking.

"I did feel bad," she replied. "Briefly."

The paintballing had been all part of Gary's birthday party-- he worked with her at the law firm-- and she knew that he'd wanted to go to some sort of bar or club afterwards. So, for the moment, she waited outside for everyone to finish handing in their equipment. She leaned against the wall, watching the man who'd followed her.

"You feel bad because your ego is bruised," she said. "Because you, the athletic expert, were shot by a woman who's never picked up a paintball gun in her life."
sans_pickles on October 7th, 2007 08:12 am (UTC)
House rounded on her, stopping her in her path. "How would you know I'm an athletic expert?" he shot back. "You don't even know me."

He pointed at her. "Whereas I could tell you'd never handled a paintball gun in your life. The way you were all..."

He trailed off and did an over exaggerated, comical mimic of how the woman had handled the gun, pulling an equally comical, over exaggerated expression of stupidity.
Stacy Warner: house & stacyharvard_law on October 7th, 2007 08:16 am (UTC)
Stacy snorted, ignoring his impression of her, looking up at him as he stood in front of her. She didn't back down from him-- this was fun, in a strange sort of way.

"I got 'athletic' from the way you ran," she explained. "I don't have to know you very well to tell that you're athletic-- you were running and diving around everywhere, as opposed to just sitting in the corner like I was. Doesn't take a genius to see it."

She shrugged, then continued.

"And I say 'expert' sarcastically, from the way you seem surprised that you got shot, especially considering you ran right out into the open."
sans_pickles on October 7th, 2007 08:25 am (UTC)
"Didn't expect to get shot, no," he retorted. "Not from a woman who holds a paintball rifle like she has two left hands and no opposable thumbs." He pointed at her again, leaning closer. "Like I said, you just got lucky."

He leaned back again, studying her face sternly - and then broke out into a grin. "I can tell you're an expert at being annoying. I feel sorry for the guy in your life that has to put up with that."

No, he wasn't offhandedly inquiring if she had a guy in her life, except for the part where he was. Offhandedly. Someone as hot as her, he doubted she would be single, anyway.
Stacy Warner: heart conditionharvard_law on October 7th, 2007 08:29 am (UTC)
"I can tell you're an expert at being an egomaniac. I feel sorry for the woman in your life that has to put up with that."

Stacy pushed back at him, a smirk on her face. She was a lawyer, she thought. It would take a lot more than that to make her angry, or even annoy her. Strangely, she was enjoying this. And she could tell that he was, too. She leaned a bit closer, just like he was-- she wasn't going to back down from him.

"I'm Stacy," she said. "Nice to meet you." And then, to answer the question that he almost asked, she added, "And there is no man in my life. I haven't found one that's been able to get over the fact that I can't play paintball. Tragic, really."
sans_pickles on October 7th, 2007 08:36 am (UTC)
He gave her a wry look at being accused of being an egomaniac (not that she was exactly far off the mark), and then suddenly blinked in surprise at her not only telling him her name, but revealing she had no guy in her life. 'What, someone hot like you isn't taken?' he almost blurted.

He held his tongue and composed himself, now looking somewhat interested. "Some guys are real unforgiving in the physical activity department," he agreed. "If you can't play ball in bed, then you've got a real problem."

He looked over her shoulder at the people milling about, glanced over his own shoulder, then looked back down at this woman who called herself Stacy. He gave her another quick grin.

"You have to work for it to know my name," he said after a beat. "The last woman in my life waited a week before I ever told her my name." He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "Ancient history."
Stacy Warner: black and whiteharvard_law on October 7th, 2007 08:41 am (UTC)
"I hardly think ability to play paintball translates somehow into sex," Stacy shot back dryly, looking at him. "Although you men can make just about anything into a sexual metaphor, can't you?"

As she studied him, Stacy saw that he did look slightly more interested as the conversation went on. And she was getting more interested also. Although she couldn't help raising an eyebrow at his last words, about her working for it to find out his name.

"I have to work to find out your name?" she asked. "And why would that be? I can ask anyone here what your name is. That last woman in your life must not have been very smart or difficult to please."
sans_pickles on October 7th, 2007 08:48 am (UTC)
"It's always fun to leave a little mystery, wouldn't you agree?" he replied. "Ask anyone here, you totally take the fun out of it. And if you were interested in getting to know me, you'd want to find out from me yourself. Which I assume you do, or you wouldn't have a) told me your name to start with, or b)..."

He trailed off, and pressed his finger to his chin thoughtfully. "Actually, you don't need a b) because the a) was so great. You don't introduce yourself to people unless you have either vested interested, or are being polite. Being you shot me and don't seem at all sorry about that, I'm going to guess you didn't offer me your name out of politeness."

That spiel over with, he then answered her comment about the last woman in his life, "She lasted about as long as it took for me to tell her my name. Told her my name was Greg as I waved good-bye and told her not to let the door hit her on the way out."

He suddenly covered his mouth with a look of mock remorse at revealing his name. "Oops."
Stacy Warner: stacy 3harvard_law on October 7th, 2007 08:54 am (UTC)
She smiled when he revealed his name, but it faded slightly as he continued talking about the last woman he dated-- he sure as hell didn't hide anything, it seemed. Which was strange for Stacy; most men, when they talked to a woman and seemed interested, they would gloss over those sorts of things, not-- well, not talk with this much honesty.

"Well, you sound like a real ladies' man, Greg."

She didn't address the tangent he'd just gone on, because yes, she was interested, but didn't want to admit it just yet. It seemed important to keep the upper hand here, for some reason.

But she turned, and the group they came with was discussing going somewhere else for drinks and whatnot, someplace downtown, to continue the party. She gestured to them, and looked up at Greg.

"Are you going with them?"
sans_pickles on October 7th, 2007 08:59 am (UTC)
He dropped his hand to his side, not at all bothered that she now knew his name. He glanced over his shoulder once again at the people Stacy was addressing to, pursed his lips and then faced back to Stacy.

"Hmmm," he sounded, frowning, as though her question was a very difficult one to answer. No doubt those friends of his, which was only a couple of them in the group, would want him to go with them.

"Let's just say," he began, pointing at Stacy again, "that I say no and then you offer to buy me a drink - what would be the likely outcome of that?"

He looked at her with interest. "Or if I offer to buy you a drink, if you're not the liberated kind of woman."
Stacy Warner: heart conditionharvard_law on October 7th, 2007 09:04 am (UTC)
Stacy got a little more confident after that, because it was made clear that he was at least interested in her, offering to buy her a drink or at the very least, have a drink with her when they got to the bar.

"I think that if you said no and I offered to buy you a drink, you would take me up on that."

She then took a bit of a chance, and smiled at him, looking up at him with equal interest.

"Although, if you'd like to be chivalrous, I'd accept a drink from you," she continued. "Depending on what kind of drink it was."
sans_pickles on October 7th, 2007 09:12 am (UTC)
"Chivalry is dead," he replied. He gave her a smirk and then cocked his head towards the direction of the door. "Come on. See if chivalry still exists."

He waited for her head off first, then followed, taking an opportune moment to check out her ass while she wasn't looking. Handful-sized, he assessed. Definitely pert. Gropable. He grinned to himself as he hurried to catch up with her.

When they reached the door, he pushed it open and held it for her, giving Stacy an appraising look. "After you," he said. "Is this classed as chivalry, or just optimism?"
Stacy Warner: house & stacyharvard_law on October 7th, 2007 09:21 am (UTC)
Stacy laughed, stepping through the door.

"Optimism. But keep going-- you might change my mind."

It occurred to her, though, that she had no way of getting to this place that they were going-- she'd caught a ride up after work with one of her co-workers. And she could do that now, but that would be much less interesting, she decided.

"It would, however, be chivalrous if you offered me a ride to this bar, since I have no way of getting there. As funny as it may be for you to watch me try and walk there, I might have to reconsider buying you that drink."
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