What Happens Next

Posted on Thu Sep 18th, 2025 @ 12:23am by Lieutenant Commander Bonnie "Bon-Bon" Durnell & Commander Dean House
Edited on on Thu Sep 18th, 2025 @ 12:23am

1,391 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Character Development
Location: Earth - Washington DC
Timeline: Pre-Lost in Space

Mild shock. That was how they would describe the look on Bonnie's face. He had stood up for her. Mind you it was an over the top show of force, but it was noble chivalry. And then, well then he had, kissed her. Even as he helped her down into her seat in his automobile, her mind was as blank as the expression upon her face.

For what felt like several minutes, nothing was said. He made the engine roar to life, but it was the shutting of his door, a symbolic closing off of the outside world, which brought her back to reality. It was a cold reality to say little of what had just happened, but she did. Her buzz still running high.

"You didn't have to do that." She stated simply, her voice low but firm. No matter how he responded, she needed him to understand one certain ground rule. One she already thought he knew, but apparently not.

"No, I really didn't need to, but I wanted to. They don't know what a precious gem you are, even when you're dropping shit." Dean smiled a little bit and winked. "Really, I know. I'm sorry. It just frustrates me."

He was stupidly sweet when he showed how much he cared, and maybe he knew, but did he truly understand? "I know, I don't know why, but I know. But that's it isn't it. I've spent my whole life experiencing bad luck, clumsiness and shame. For me it's who I am. I have my good days and my bad days, oh I've had some bad days." Her face lit up as she recalled some terrible days, before she continued.

"But I've come to terms with, well, with me. Which means... I've learned to pick my battles. I've learned not to rely heavily on others. Papa used to call them my crutches. People who I leaned on to pick me up when I fell down were nice, but he helped me understand I had to learn to pick myself up and carry on, you know?"

She looked over to him and then back down into her lap. "I guess what I'm saying is, I appreciate your willingness to always be there to pick me up, but knowing who I am also means knowing when NOT to. Same goes for picking fights and scaring Civilians. They don't know any better." She finished by looking over at Dean for his comforting chiseled face.

"I actually do understand that." Dean reached to give her hand a quick reassuring squeeze. "I was picked on and made fun of all the time. Maybe that's why I feel like I need to stand up for the 'little' guy. I know you're a big girl and can stand up for yourself. Just hate ignorant people." Giving a little sigh, "I'll attempt to not do so as much."

He had told her that before, she recalled. Though she had never pried nor did she really believe him, but trusted when he was ready he would talk about it as she had done. Turning her eyes from his handsome understanding, she glanced at the chronometer. "So... we have just under twelve hours before our ride leaves without us and I've already lost my buzz twice now. Where do we go from here?"

"Well..." Dean also looked at the chronometer a moment, "How do you feel about cowboy hats and boots?" He hit the turn signal switch to make a U-Turn. And for his own shits and giggles, punched it. The engine sound kicking up as the speed increased. He wasn't going to do it for long since there was a curve coming.

The look on her face was one of confusion as she started to ask, "Cowboy haaaaaaaaaa....?" Her words ended in a scream of terror as the U-turn and subsequent gunning of the engine threw her body towards the door and pinned her there for a solid 5 seconds before thrusting her back into the seat at an awkward angle.

Once the car came to a normalized g-force, before the curve ahead, she readjusted her position and shot him a look. What was with young adult males and their desire to drive with such reckless abandon?" "Are you trying to hurt us?" She asked just before he turned the car into the curve, effectively throwing her towards him. The only thing stopping her was the seatbelt around her waist and across her chest, which now hurt.

"Hurt us? Why would I do that, even if I were a normal human that shouldn't have hurt anything." Then it dawned on Dean, she wasn't use to it and didn't know how to brace herself so the transition was harmless. Having slowed down of course as to not kill them, "Hell, I'm sorry."

“Saints preserve us, you...” she snorted, the words broken by a burst of giggles, “...you utter gormless shitehawk!” The Gaelic curse tumbled out before she could stop herself, and somehow made her laugh even harder. She wiped at her eyes and tried to catch her breath, still grinning helplessly. “Next time, maybe warn a girl before you turn into a ruddy rollercoaster, aye?” Her tone was mock-scolding, but her cheeks were flushed with amusement rather than anger. In truth she may have enjoyed the sudden recklessness.

Tilting her head toward him, she squinted with exaggerated suspicion. “Cowboy hats and boots, was it? You’re lucky I’m not demanding spurs too, just so I’ve got something sharp to kick you with after that.” The smile lingered as she leaned back into the seat, the last of her laughter turning to hiccups.

"Oh...says the giggling girl, whom now has hiccups. Also I don't know that I need the headlights on anymore, the bright red coming from your cheeks are more than enough illumination." Dean grinned. "And you also would have to be able to catch me even with the spurs."

"Sorry." She apologized bashfully. "I think the drink, hic, is finally getting to me." She was beaming for no other reason than, "Hey, hic, at least I'm finally letting loose, and trying, hic, to have some fun." She smiled in the dim light of day, "Perhaps you, hic, could do the same?"

"Oh Darling, that alcohol has more than hit you well before now and... when do I not have fun?"

She honestly stared at him for a solid minute, still trying to fight her hiccups by holding her breath, finally, she said, "Hic, you're always just, I don't know, so, hic, serious." It was at about that moment when the car began to slow down and came to a stop. In front of them was a large wooden building with bright inviting lights and people swaying to a beat outside. Bonnie could feel the music vibrating through the car, it was old, unfamiliar sounds, like a relic of a bygone era.

"Here?" She asked, "What are we, hic, doing here?"

"I did mention having fun, dancing, cowboy boots and hats after all." Dean had to purse his lips tightly for a moment to not giggle or out right laugh at her lack of sobriety with the hiccups. Really it wasn't quite fair the alcohol didn't hit him like others. He wasn't completely sober, but more well than enough to keep them safe. "Oh, and they have killer mozzarella sticks. Unless you have something else in mind."

She nodded absently as she recalled what he had really said and it clicked and she started to panic, "You said, hic, Cowboy boots and hats, hic, I don't recall anything about, hic, dancing!" Then she got frustrated at the hiccups as they rolled out of her mouth. "Oh for fu_ hic, s sake!" It came out as a cross between a curse word, a hiccup and a burp."

She quickly covered her mouth and looked at Dean and mouthed, "Sorry." As if she were apologizing for simply existing. "Dancing?" She managed to ask without hiccupping.

"Yes, I did. And yes, dancing. Would you fancy dancing with me." Dean smiled.

She studied him; his face was like that of a schoolboy ready to show off how special he was. She was struggling to say no, this is a bad idea, so instead she said, "Sure, what could go, hic?"

 

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