robots can fuck your shit up [prince]

He wasn't completely sure what to expect when he saw Allison again. Sure, he'd seen pictures, but he hadn't quite expected her to be so... Petite. It wasn't as though he had expected to be tall-- no, far from it, but she definitely seemed smaller in person than she had in the few photographs she had posted online. Neil hadn't been that much taller than her when they had been kids, but it looked as though the tables had turned. His lips stretched into a wide grin.

"Pleasure to meet you again, Miss Allison!"

With that, he was ushered into the house. He was immediately greeted by a familiar scent. Neil furrowed his brows. Had Allison tried to cook Indian food? No, this wasn't quite it. For one, he would have been able to distinguish between the spices quite easily at this point, seeing as he had spent hours in his mother's spice cabinet as a child. However, there was something distinctly familiar about the spread, and that was when his gaze fell on the pilaf rice. Blue eyes lit up as he turned to Allison.

"Wow, I haven't had this since Australia. How did you guess I liked this?"

But before he forgot! Neil handed the gift of chocolate to the girl, calm smile ever-present on his chiseled features. "I brought you this for your hospitality," he said. Oh, formalities. It wasn't that he minded them, but he couldn't help but wonder sometimes what it would be like to drop them all. Then again, he supposed that was what the purpose of actual friendship was.

"My parents are doing fine. They're both back in Australia." He decided not to mention that his mother was not aware he was in California, working instead of studying. Much as he had stressed the importance of work experience to her as a child, she seemed to stubbornly believe that studying would be more than enough. Besides, that fact was for him and Kris to know, and for nobody else to find out. "What about yours?"

Formalities were all a part of doing business. While they might have seemed a little forced, they were a matter of better safe than sorry. You never knew when someone was going to be insulted that you didn't say or do something to suit them, and to avoid that Neil was going to keep himself out of the way and stay as confrontation-free as possible. It was just a matter of politeness. No harm done. So when Allison smiled and told him to drop the airs and graces, Neil nodded back in response. "Okay!" he exclaimed. He knew that it was just a thing people said, though. There weren't many people whose opinions he cared about, but Allison's father was a business partner of his dad's. It would be best to maintain good relations.

He didn't have to pretend to like what he saw in terms of the spread of food, though. No, there was no pretence, because it simply appeared to be fantastic. "That looks fantastic," Neil muttered as he approached the table. Oh boy, he couldn't wait to eat it all up. Business was business, but good food was something that everyone had in common. Nobody would fault you for enjoying a meal more than they thought was appropriate-- propriety was overrated, after all, when it came to the wonderful subject of food. He sat down at the table, eyeing the food with delight, stomach churning as he waited for her to serve him.

"Thank you so much," Neil said. Was he supposed to wait for her to start first? For her to offer for him to start? Then again, she had said bon appetit, which was probably some sort of indication that he should begin. With that, Neil tucked into the food, face lighting up as he savoured the bowl of fluffed rice. "Mmm," he muttered. "This is really good."

Neil nodded as she told him to eat up, and that there was plenty so he could take it back. "You might regret saying that," he teased as he continued digging into the chutney dip and papadoms. "There won't be any left by the time I'm done with this, and I might have dug through your week's supply of groceries as well." It was all said with a bemused, lighthearted tone, and a twinkle in his eye. Oh, how times had changed and they had changed. He wouldn't have been surprised if Allison turned out to be someone completely different after all. The question about her family was deftly dodged and Neil made a note of that, reminding himself to ask later at a time that was more appropriate.

Business was business, after all.

And even if they weren't exactly discussing any deals, this was also partly a formality, no? The idea of repaying a favour? Don't get him wrong, he did like Allison as a person, or at least he had as a child. She'd once told him that she wanted to be a baker, and when he had been questioned, he'd said that he just wanted to change the world, to shake the foundations that it had been built upon. Neil was still the same, but what about her? Had growing up changed anything about Allison at all?

"Google's great! I'm glad to be in Los Angeles, actually. I missed this kind of weather. I miss wearing flip-flops everywhere." The fact that he'd come somewhat dressed in a dress shirt, suspenders and nice jeans meant that he was actually wearing proper shoes, a rare sight for someone like Neil. Then again, since he'd left his shoes at the door like in Asian custom, he supposed it wasn't so bad. "Everything they tell you about working at Google? It's true. The work culture is great and I'm learning a lot." And being challenged every day, learning how inadequate he was in the scheme of the wider world.

Then again, that was probably for the better, no?

"And you? How's Oxxy? How do you like being here?"

"May I be the first to succeed, then." The cheeky grin on his face belied the caution he was exercising. This wasn't Kristen he was dealing with, nor someone whose opinion he could trust. Rather, this was the daughter of his father's business partner. Anything that he said could be reflected on his father, and he had no idea how close Allison might have been to her parents. The last thing he wanted was his father's reputation to be hurt if he came across as rude. But that didn't stop him from giving Allison a wink, and raising the glass of lassi that she had set out for him.

"To Allison, for this excellent meal!"

With that, he continued tucking into the food, savouring every bite. While there was the mad urge to guzzle everything down as quickly as he could, Neil did his best to take his time. Again, formalities. He couldn't help but wish that he could just do away with them as Aly had said, but it was hardly so simple. Nope, this was the kind of life he was used to, and would have to get used to in the future. It didn't mean he had to like it, though. "Yes, flip-flop vending machines. Everywhere," Neil grinned. "The pride and joy of our entire nation. Along with the drop bears." Absolutely terrifying, those drop bears were. Largest cause of death in the entire country. "I'm sure my parents would love to have you back. You should drop us a line if you're ever in the area."

He took another sip of his lassi as Allison mentioned that she'd been in California for a while. Well, that wouldn't have been hard to guess. She had picked up on some of the accent, and her Facebook had listed 'Westview High School, San Diego' as her high school. But then again, he didn't exactly want to advertise that he had occasionally stalked her profile. He was pretty sure that she had stalked various profiles in her own time, just like everyone else, but it was just one of those things that everyone did but nobody talked about.

"Pastry chef apprentice?" Neil asked, eyes widening. "How is it? Do you like it? I should definitely drop by at your bakery, then," he grinned. "It'd be nice to take a look around and see what you're baking up. If it's anything like what we're having now, consider me sold."

"Well, they say that practice makes perfect, don't they?" Neil asked as he continued to munch on the bread. It was really very good. "And if you made all of this yourself, I would say that there's probably some stuff that you can apply cross-discipline. I think you've got yourself quite the impressive head-start." Some people were good at computers, some people were good at cooking, some people were good at other things. It was a simple fact of life. "I've done quite a bit of cooking since arriving here, but no baking. And thank you for your offer. I might take you up on that."

It was fascinating to hear someone talk about something so passionately. There weren't many people who he felt like he could be around for long periods of time, but for short bursts, Allison was doing quite okay. "Don't worry about it," he dismissed when she apologized. "You're fine. At least I'm not talking about programming." Also, the number of shiny shiny monitors he wanted to have in his dream home when he finally hit it big. One for all of his purposes: gaming, two for programming, music, a movie, one for a webcam, one for the Internet, and one for instant messaging. Another for good measure, and another one to round it up to ten. He'd watched Leverage on Kris' request, and had immediately decided that would be his dream life.

"My name's on the register to go back to Rochester in August." Ooh, he'd rhymed. He thought of maybe phrasing it differently, but he didn't quite feel like doing too much explaining. Besides, it would be bad if he told her he was going to try and stay, but didn't manage to. That and he was telling the truth: Neil was taking only the summer out, not the entire year out. But then again, he couldn't read Allison's thoughts and he hadn't mentioned it, and his mother was unaware that he was working for the summer anyway. Allison was right, just not in the way she thought she was.

"It's nice and warm here, though. To flip-flops and sunshine and actual Asian food!"

"Aww don't sell yourself short. I'm quite sure that I'm no expert in whatever you're majoring in. And if you've got a question or two you can always drop me a line." He had nothing to lose from offering to help, after all, and everything to gain. If he happened to be busy with work projects, he was quite sure that Allison would understand if he said no to helping out. What was with people putting themselves down when they realized that he was with Google, anyway?

If he had cared more about it, he would be starting to find it slightly irritating. Neil frowned.

"We've all got potential to do wonderful things. I can only hope that we learn to tap into ours and actually do them."

A rare moment of complete honesty, not shrouded by a smile and his natural charm. But it had been on his mind for a while. He'd always believed that he'd been able to tap into his natural potential, but recent events were beginning to prove otherwise. The brunette sighed inwardly as he continued to chew at his food. Well, it was time for a change of subject, wasn't it?

"Ah, yes. You and your parents always lived in temperate climates, didn't you?" he asked. "I remember your father used to tell me to visit you back when you guys had come to Australia. Never took him up on that offer. Maybe I should pop back and say hi-- he used to like some warm drink a lot that you guys bought a ton of from Perth. I should bring some. What was it again?"

Whoa there.

Neil's jolted backwards as he watched the other gasp out loud, clenching the table in a death-grip as she began to stutter. "You okay?" he asked tentatively, eyes focused on her as he noticed her breath start to hasten, her eyes wide open as her gaze drifted from his. Only that was a silly question. She was obviously not okay, he noted as she started to hyperventilate. Shit. Shit shit shit what was he supposed to do at a time like this? No. He was supposed to be calm. He was supposed to be cool--

"It's fine. Don't worry." With that, Neil bounded out of his seat, resting a hand on her back. This was okay, right? He was supposed to do this, wasn't he? "J- just-- don't worry. It's fine," he said, taking a deep breath. No, the last thing he needed was to panic himself. He was supposed to be reassuring.

But what in the world was going on.

"It's okay," he said, hoping that he came across as calm, rational, reassuring. Was it okay to touch her? Neil squeezed his eyes shut, taking in yet another deep breath. The last thing he needed to do at this stage was panic himself. "I- it's fine. You don't have to answer." No, that had probably been something stupid.

Keep calm, keep calm, keep cool.

"You'll be okay."

Wait, dead?

Neil froze for a moment, his hand lingering on her shoulder. Bright blues widened with shock as his lips parted to speak, but he couldn't find the words to answer her.

"I- I'm so sorry."

What else was he supposed to say? No, no, this wasn't the time to think about himself. Not when someone was having a panic attack in front of him. Yes, that was what it was-- she was having a panic attack, he didn't quite know what to do, so all he could do was be reassuring. No time to apologize about things that happened in the past. Time to focus on Allison and on what was actually going on, in the present, in the now.

"You won't forget him." Were they empty words? He certainly hoped not. "You'll always have memories." But he'd never lost anyone before. Never known anyone who'd died. Somehow, his words felt hollow, almost empty, even if his tone was calm and he did his best to smile.

"Y- you have too much to hold on to."

What was he even saying any more? This was the sort of thing you were supposed to say, right? Neil took a deep breath. How were you supposed to make sure someone having a panic attack was going to be okay?

This wasn't about him.

No, this wasn't about him right now. He wasn't supposed to be worrying whether he was doing the right thing, how he appeared or how he would come across to her if he messed up. Allison was practically hyperventilating at this point, and Neil knew that he had to do his best to be here for her. But her grip started to loosen, and a chuckle slipped from her lips; Neil greeted that with an uneasy smile.

He had never been very good at comfort, or with emotions. He wasn't a particularly emotional person himself, to be fair. No, he preferred logic, he preferred numbers, he preferred things that required rational thought. So he hoped that he was at least showing the correct emotional response. At this stage, it was about what she wanted to hear, not so much what was probably correct.

"Far... Too much?" Was he prompting her to talk? Perhaps he was. Perhaps he wasn't. He didn't even know himself. It would have felt strange to not say anything and leave the space between them empty, though. It was the kind of thing you did, after all. Offered guidance and soothing words, echoed their sentiments but didn't mock them. If she wanted to elaborate, she would herself.