complexfemalecharacter | [steve

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steve

[steve - december 18]

It's probably dumb, but Maeve is actually sort of nervous about the party. The last time she went out and got herself a pretty dress and went somewhere like this with a boy, he'd ended up just getting drunk and ignoring her, leaving her feeling like shit, and then her brother's stupid crap had ended up getting her kicked out of school.

She tries telling herself it's different this time. Steve isn't like Jackson, for one, even if she hasn't figured out what the hell she's doing with him yet. And there's no school to get kicked out of, no Sean to fuck things up for her. No Otis to be an idiot at her, no Ola to make her feel even more like garbage.

It's just a party, she's told herself. One that could be a lot of fun if she let it. So she'd gone to her favourite second hand shop and searched until she found the dress, somehow the perfect fit for her and the right price. She has silver shoes and a little silver shawl to go over it, and she's done her hair up, swept back on one side, curled and cascading over her shoulder on the other.

She's even wearing less makeup. Not no makeup, but the black liner isn't quite so heavy and she's taken off some of her jewelry.

All in all, she feels quite pretty. She also can't stop nervously bouncing her knee as she sits on the couch and waits for Steve to arrive.

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"Yeah, just whatever you need for the weekend," Steve tells her, relieved and happy that she seems excited for the idea. He leans in to cup her cheek and give her a kiss, smiling against her mouth before pulling back to look at her. "There's stuff to do up there but we hopefully we won't be leaving the room too much."

He grins and kisses her again before stepping away and heading for her bedroom. "I can help, if you want. My stuff's already up there."

Earlier that day, he went to check in just so they wouldn't have to deal with it later, and dropped his bag on the way. "We can check your bag with the coats at the party, and take a car up there when we're ready to go."

He's actually kind of proud of himself, because it seems like he thought of everything, which is good. He really wants this to be great, because Maeve deserves to be treated great.

"You're really prepared," she says and her tone is almost suspicious. Guys don't generally do things like this, not for her, not for anyone. Jackson had been a good guy and he still wouldn't have been this thoughtful. Maybe Otis would have been, if he'd ever been able to pull his head out of his own ass, but she'll never know now.

Steve is thoughtful. Sometimes Maeve still doesn't know what to do with that. She's never had thoughtful, not even from her own family.

In her bedroom, Maeve finds a bag in her closet and begins to put her things inside. Some clothes, a pair of shoes, even a bathing suit she had bought in the summer, not realizing she would need it for the winter, too.

Steve notices the slight shift in her tone, and wonders if maybe this is all too much. Maybe she doesn't want stuff like this from him. A weekend getaway isn't actually casual, he supposes.

Before he can start to overthink things too much, he lifts his head and watches as she stuffs things into a bag. She seems excited, and if Maeve really didn't want to go, she would probably just tell him that. It's one of the things that he likes about her.

"I brought the essentials," he tells her in a jokingly serious tone. "For the previously mentioned sex in a tub."

"Oh good, we wouldn't want to find ourselves without condoms in a hotel where they probably leave them propped up with the little shampoo and soap," she teases with a smile thrown over her shoulder at him.

After she's got her clothing packed, she moves to the bathroom, putting makeup and her toothbrush and deodorant in a little toiletries bag that she then shoves into the bigger bag. Once she's done, she returns to Steve and shoves the bag against his chest, then rises onto her toes so she can kiss him over the top of it.

"This is really nice," she says again. "Thank you."

"Excuse you, I also got champagne," Steve tells her as she zips up her bag. "And some bath bomb thing that I don't understand but came highly recommended by the uppity sales guy."

He grips her bag and leans into the kiss, waiting for her to pull away before shifting the bag to his side, feeling his nerves melt away. This doesn't have to be a big thing. They can just go and have fun together. That's what's most important.

"Are you ready to go?" Steve asks as he follows her into the living room. "I can request a car."

"What's complicated about a bath bomb?" Maeve asks, looking around for her shoes so she can slide her feet into the silver heels. They're decidedly not something she would wear usually, but they go with the theme of the night and she actually feels really pretty when she's wearing them.

Hopefully she doesn't twist her bloody ankle.

"Is it one of those ones that's going to leave glitter in every bloody crevice we have?" she asks, turning to look at Steve with a grin before she nods that she's ready to go.

"We didn't have them in the eighties. We had like, Mr. Bubble," Steve says with a shrug, distracted from the conversation by the flex of her legs and and ass in that tight dress as she steps into her heels, but the mention of glitter brings him back. "What? I hope not. It just looked blue."

He nods and requests a car on the app on his phone, which is still kind of wild to him, even after almost a year and a half of being here. Some things are just so insanely easy here, and he's not sure that he'll ever get used to it.

Thankfully there's one close, so they head downstairs to wait. It's kind of freezing outside and Maeve doesn't have a jacket, so Steve sets her bag down and takes off his suit jacket so that he can put it over her shoulders, leaning in to kiss the side of her neck as he does.

"Can't have you freeze before we get to the party," he teases, kissing her again before stepping away to pick up the bag. "Then who would I dance with?"

Maeve snorts in amusement and says, "You'd probably have a line up. Maybe not of appropriately aged women, but all those little teen boys who hang around you?"

Then she grins and arches her eyebrow at Steve. He's not a jackass and he doesn't lead them on or anything, but that skinny loud one with the glasses who works at the record store spends about half his time at the store just looking at Steve and trying not to get caught.

"Oh, yeah, one of them would dance with you for sure," she promises. "You'll always have options."

"Ugh, kids are so much easier before puberty hits," Steve jokes, straightening the cuffs of his shirt. He knows that he has kind of a unique relationship with that group of kids, but it's kind of holdover from the gaggle of them that he had at home. He's explained that to Maeve, at least in vague terms, so he's pretty sure that she gets it.

"As comforting as it is to know that I have a gaggle of lanky teenage boys at my disposal," he teases, quirking a brow at her as the car pulls up, "I only have eyes for you."

And it's true, too. Normally with parties like these, Steve would be going stag and eager to see who he might find there, and what they might get up to, but not this time. Tonight, he has a date, and he want to spend a reasonable amount of time with her at the party before whisking her away to a hotel suite so they can have sex in a giant tub.

"Come on," he says happily, opening the car door for her. "I have a bunch of pubescent boys to impress."

"Does it help, knowing you don't have to try very hard?" she asks with a grin as she gets into the car and stashes her bag on the seat beside her, tucking it against the door. "With them, I mean, I still have very high expectations. Lots of drinks and dinners and... what else do people do when they're courting someone?"

She uses that word on purpose -- courting -- because she thinks the formality of it will make Steve laugh and because it takes the pressure off her trying to work out what they are or aren't.

"Ooh, flowers?" she asks. "Plenty of flowers, too."

Steve does laugh at the word, but he can't help but to wonder if that really is what he's doing, and more importantly: is it working?

They climb into the back of the car and Steve double checks the address before setting his phone down and twisting a bit to face Maeve, reaching out to rest his hand on her knee.

"Is that what you really want?" He asks in a low voice, leaning in to bump her nose with his before giving her a soft kiss. "Lots of flowers?"

"Oh, yeah, you know me," Maeve says with a fond roll of her eyes before she kisses Steve again. "I definitely expect loads of flowers. All over the flat, really. Very high maintenance, me. I figure you'd've worked all that out by now."

She leans against him in the back of the car, chewing on her lower lip to hide her smile. All this is still unfamiliar to her. She likes Steve. She likes being with Steve, but she still never knows if she's doing this right or if she's just fucking everything up.

"Yeah, I've definitely picked up on that," Steve says sarcastically, leaning over to press kisses along the curve of her cheek, down behind her ear to a spot he knows is ticklish. "Lots of flowers. Trails of them to the bed, got it."

He spends the rest of the drive holding her hand, bringing it up to kiss her knuckles. He just wants to be touching her, like all the time. Not just for sex but like always, and he's pretty sure that means something big.

But he doesn't have to think about that tonight. He just has to have fun with a beautiful girl.

When the car pulls up to the mansion, Steve slides out and holds out his hand to help her out, making a show of bowing dramatically.

"God," Maeve says, rolling her eyes, but she's also trying to hide her smile as she takes Steve's hand and gets out of the car. She grabs her bag on the way out, feeling a little like she's headed out for a sleepover -- not that she'd ever done that as a kid -- and she'll be glad to stash the bag with her coat once they're inside.

"So are these parties always... like this?" she asks as they approach, gesturing at the mansion. It's intimidating. Much more intimidating than Aimee's house had ever been, maybe because she'd known Aimee from the time they were kids. Going into this house now, she doesn't know if anyone familiar will be here besides Steve.

Usually Maeve is good about hiding when she's feeling intimidated, but that's usually because she has her armour with her; her clothes, her boots, all the heavy makeup and jewelry. Today she has none of that.

"The mansion parties? Yeah, they're always over the top," Klaus tells her, taking her bag from her and sliding it over his shoulder as he reaches for her hand. She's looking at the mansion with a little bit of apprehension as they approach, and he thinks that it's only because he's getting to know her that he's able to see it.

"But they're fun though, because they're full of people from all over, just like the city," he tells her in a casual tone, because he doesn't want her thinking that this is going to be some event where they're supposed to act a certain way. "You could like, dance with a princess and go have a beer with a dude who's never seen electricity before. Wild."

They make it inside and step over to the coat check, taking his jacket from Maeve and sliding it back on, before taking the one she has underneath it and checking it along with her bag.

"Okay," he says excitedly, resting his hand on her lower back as they head into the large entryway. "We should get a drink first, right?"

Unlike most of the people she went to school with, Maeve isn't much of a drinker. She drinks sometimes, mostly because other people are doing it, and now seems as good a time as any. A drink might help calm her nerves a little, make her feel like she might fit in a little bit better.

It isn't Steve she's nervous about, but the whole party itself. It's so much bigger and fancier than she's used to. Not even Aimee's house looked like this.

"Yeah," she agrees. "We need drinks."

Maeve is tough. Steve knows that. She's a total badass and can handle herself, but she puts on a brave face sometimes, even when she feels uneasy or out of place. Maybe Steve can recognize it because he would do the same thing from time to time, but for him it was more about fitting in than standing out. He conformed to the rich white guy stereotype without much of a fight.

Okay, so maybe it isn't the same, because she's tough whereas he was kind of a pussy until something happened that made him start to change, but the point is that he can tell that she's kind of nervous.

"You know, whenever you want to bail and head for the hotel, just say the word," Steve says as they approach the bar. He peruses over the specials menu and hands it over to her. "Trust me, I won't complain."

Given the choice between a fancy party or potentially wet and naked Maeve, there's absolutely no contest.

"You just want to get me naked," Maeve answers with a smug little grin as she glances at the menu. Half the drinks are completely unfamiliar to her and in the end she just asks the bartender for the darkest stout they've got.

"It's just all this," she admits, turning back around to survey the party while the bartender gets their drinks. "I grew up in a caravan park, my dad was gone before I could walk, my mum was on drugs my whole life and only there for part of it anyway. The people who live in places like this were the ones who shit on me every chance they got."

And it had sucked. A lot. She'd built up walls, put on a prickly outer layer as best she could, and in the end it had separated her from nearly everyone except Aimee, and even Aimee she could only hang out with in secret.

"Guilty," Steve says with a grin, before ordering the same thing as her. He leans against the bar and watches her as she speaks. Their upbringings really couldn't have been more different. His own parents were pretty absent, and his dad was kind of an abusive asshole, but at least he was provided for. He was a rich, decent looking white guy in the Midwest, and it's really only after coming to Darrow that he realized just how better that made everything for him.

"The thing I've realized about Darrow is that it's kind of the great equalizer," Steve tells her, knowing that he can't really offer anything about how bad she had it, because he could never really understand, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't care.

Their beers are set down, and Steve picks his up while he turns to gesture at the ballroom. "No one even lives here, I don't think. No one's going to shit on you, and if they do, I will totally-- stand back by while you eviscerate their ass."

"You're really sweet," Maeve says and she appreciates what he's trying to do, but she also doesn't buy it. Not completely. There are still plenty of rich assholes in this place and just because the guy throwing the party isn't one of them doesn't mean there aren't a dozen milling around, just waiting for the chance to be a twat.

"You've already seen me have to eviscerate people here," she points out, then takes a sip of her beer. "Darrow is the same as every other place in that regard. You just don't see it because you're the one who gets to go home with the slag who'll blow you for a fiver."

She's teasing, grinning up at him, because even though she's absolutely sincere in how shit people can be, she doesn't want to ruin the mood tonight. She's having a good time and she wants to keep having a good time.

"Maeve." The comment surprises him, because he definitely doesn't think that about her, and he doesn't want her thinking that about herself, but then she grins up at him and he realizes that she's kidding. Yeah, in a weird kind of way, but still.

"To a fancy hotel, actually, so I'm hoping you'll do it for free," he volleys back once he's gathered his wits, laughing as he curls his arm around her waist and leans in to press a kiss under her ear, rubbing his mouth against her skin just to tickle her.

"But first," he says once he pulls back, handing Maeve his beer before picking up the other one. "We drink."

She makes a face at him before taking a sip of the drink and looking around again. "First we drink," she agrees and even though she's just made a face at him, she's still smiling under all that, her lips pressed together in a tight smile.

"I guess, technically, since you paid for the hotel room, it's not totally free," she teases, looking way more amused than she thinks she has any right to. Before he can take it too seriously, she turns back to him and puts her arm around his waist, pulling him up against her.

"I'm kidding," she promises. "I know you don't think of me like that. I wouldn't be here with you if I thought you did."

The hug surprises Steve a little, but he reacts quickly enough and sets his beer down on the bar so he can wrap both of his arms around her. People have treated Maeve badly, and not just the assholes that she went to school with. People who were supposed to care for her let her down, and she's still dealing with all of that.

Steve's parents let him down too, but he knows that it doesn't compare. They were always and not at all that present in his life, but Steve never had to worry about having a roof over his head. That financial stability allowed Steve to overlook a lot of the other stuff. Maeve was let down by pretty much everyone, he's gathering, and the last thing he wants to do is be another one of those people.

"I'm glad that you're here with me," he says as he kisses her forehead, giving her another squeeze before pulling back. "I like you. I wouldn't want to be here at this stupid party with anyone else."

That's-- probably more than he should have said, but he's having a harder time trying to be so casual with this. He picks up his beer and takes her hand, leading her away so they can take better stock of the party. There's a giant Christmas tree in the middle of the space, maybe a bigger one than Steve has ever seen, and he lets out a surprised laugh. "Wow."

"I'm prettier than anyone else you know," she answers with a grin and a shrug, as if that's the only reason Steve is here with her. "Except maybe Robin and Rue, but I don't think either of them are interested in your dick. Or any dick."

Maeve lets Steve the way, holding her beer in one hand, her heels clicking on the floor as they walk. It feels weird, being in heels, she doesn't normally wear anything like this, but she feels pretty, too.

"This is a lot," she says, looking up at the tree. "I don't think I've ever seen a Christmas tree this big."

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[steve - december 18]

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