>>"Ugh, relationshi' talk? Dude, you're killin' nee."

"Sorry" Javier smiled, holding up his hands "You don't have to." Jack was one of the few people that could call him out on things without making him feel anxious, or a total mess. It took a special kind of person, and a lot of time, for him to feel at ease like that. But he really did care about Jack, and wanted to offer the chance for her to vent.

>>"Just... didn't 'ork out. Gettin' in sights, all dat. Nei'er uzz us 'ere ha'y, so 'e called it oss."

"Well... when it's over, it's over" Javier noted, going back to his work. It was easier to work and talk at the same time.

>>"'s a dan shane. Was kinda nice has-ing sun-one around."

"I hear you" Javier sighed. It was hard to find someone one could connect with, and especially hard for the two of them for different reasons. "You'd think New York would have a better dating scene." he added as a joke.

"Solks are... too 'usy stayin' in dere own lane, to look around," the prawn declared. It was true. She'd seen some video about the prevalence of small talk in different regions of the United States. How in some areas, it was more polite to create small-talk and treat service people like people... but in places like New York City, it was rude to waste a service person's time, and you were supposed to cut right to the chase.

So, while there were infinitely more people around... most of the time, people weren't looking beyond the tip of their own nose.

A pregnant pause had settled between the two of them. Jack quietly watched her friend work. The prawn's own observation about people "staying in their lane" had made the stretch of silence only serve to make her realize how really, truly lonely she was.

"Wanna..." the prawn trailed quietly, "Get sun tea as-ter you sin-ish utt here, today?"

Even if she was just keeping the company of a friend, Jack didn't want to be someone who just "stayed in their lane" after they finished up today.

>>"Solks are... too 'usy stayin' in dere own lane, to look around,"

Dating in New York was frustrating for a lot of reasons. It was a big city, full of opportunities - but it was also a busy city full of strangers and visitors, which made making friends a hard job. For someone like Javier, who was not into occasional hookups, the whole thing was a nightmare. Not impossible, but also not very comforting. For Jack, it was very similar. They had shared those experiences before; it was one of the reasons they were close.

>>"Wanna... Get sun tea as-ter you sin-ish utt here, today?"

"Yeah... that sounds nice" Javier nodded with a smile. "But I am warning you, I am a terrible wingman for tea shops..."

Jack huffed, feigning offense at the stipulation that Javier added onto his acceptance of the invitation.

"Don't need a wing-nan is I'n not on duh lookout like dat," Jack teased, "Nay'e we'll see sun-one sore you, doh."

Jack knew full well that Javier wouldn't want to pick anyone up like that, though. it was mostly just to poke holes in his own argument. He finished pinning the slacks, and Jack turned, surveying the beginnings of his handiwork. The pants hung well off of her jutting hips, and covered down to the joint that comprised her "ankle".

"Shirt now?" she offered, spinning slowly and contemplatively so that Javier could survey his handiwork and make any of the necessary last-minute fixes. She knew full well that the shirt would be more challenging-- they'd have to take a seam-ripper to the sleeves, first of all, and free them from the shirt itself. Then Javier would have to add the modifications that helped get the sleeves past Jack's massive lower arms (metal snaps along the sleeve, invisible to the outward observer).

>>"Don't need a wing-nan is I'n not on duh lookout like dat. Nay'e we'll see sun-one sore you, doh."

"Alright, touché!" Javier chuckled, holding up his hands. He never really went out with the aim of picking someone up at a club; that was usually just a recipe for disaster. But Jack made a good point; no one should be pressured into hitting on people.

>>"Shirt now?"

"Yeah, let's look at the shirt" Javier agreed, getting to work on the usual alterations. "Well, you are going to look dashing anyway."

A bark of laughter escaped the prawn. "Dashing." She hardly thought of herself as dashing. The thought of shirtlessly managing a club was humorous to her, as well. What sort of warped club would have a shirtless manager? Maybe a mutant strip club. Was there even such a thing? Was there a clientele for that? What would they do about Adapteds?

These thoughts nagged at the prawn as she retreated into the changing stall, slithering out of the pants-to-be-mended and back into her cargo shorts. She then pulled the shirt off over her head, depositing it onto the chair. Without donning the dress shirt, she exited back out-- hanger and dress-shirt in tow. Javier had seen it all before, anyways-- no sense in being modest. Jack ambled back towards Javi, depositing the pinned pants, and the shirt. They'd have to take a seam ripper to the sleeves before it could even be tried-on and fitted.

"I'd has to turn into a nudist, iss I didn't has you," the prawn remarked, a humored glimmer in her lavender gaze.

Jack changed her pants back, but she walked out of the cubicle with the shirt still on her arm. She was many things, but she was not bashful - not around Javier, anyway. Javier took some secret pride in that. In her unique, different way, she really was quite the sight to behold, shape, colors, and all.

>>"I'd has to turn into a nudist, iss I didn't has you,"

"I'm sure some would appreciate that" Javier smirked, looking at the shirt. It was his not-so-subtle way of paying a compliment; a butt naked mantis shrimp mutant was bound to raise some eyebrows, and possibly trouble, in any public setting. And yet, Javier was sure that he was not the only one that thought Jack was... something else. "You know, at some point, you'll just have to settle for having these done from scratch..."

>> "I'm sure some would appreciate that"

The prawn scoffed at that, shaking her head.

"Oh, 'lease," she begged him, looking at her friend through droll, half-lidded eyes, "S'lattery gets you nowhere."

She leaned against the counter, next to her shirt and slacks, and watched her friend coolly.

>> "You know, at some point, you'll just have to settle for having these done from scratch..."

"What'cha nean?" the prawn clicked. She fished-out her phone, checking to see if anything new had popped-up. Nada.

>>"Oh, 'lease. S'lattery gets you nowhere."

"Are you sure about that?" Javier chuckled. He was not usually a flatterer, but he liked to give compliments where they were due, and sometimes, they did get him somewhere. Jack knew that.

There was still work to do, though. Shirts had to be a certain quality to survive being ripped and put back together in a way that both looked good and fit Jack's figure. Unless someone made them from scratch.

>>"What'cha nean?"

"I mean... I could design you some" he suggested a little sheepishly "Some things that are not... altered from other things. Nothing flashy! You don't... really need flashy. But at this point, it might be easier than trying to do all the alterations?..."

Jack rumbled churlishly as Javier countered her remark about flattery, but there was a smile in her eyes. They both knew that flattery couldd get Javier somewhere, and had gotten him somewhere in the past. The prawn inclined her head as Javier spoke, interest piqued.

>> "I mean, I could design you some. Some things that are not... altered from other things."

"I don't-"

>> "Nothing flashy! You don't... really need flashy. But at this point, it might be easier than doing all the alterations?..."

The prawn took a moment to process what Javier was saying. It was a kind offer for him to make, really it was... and Jack really knew nothing about alterations or sewing or any of that crap.

"Would it really 'e easier den altering duh clothes?" she asked, leaning against the counter, "I'd sink dat designing sings 'd take longer..."

If you looked at it from a woodworking standpoint (which was honestly the only basis of comparison Jack had), repairing the leg of a table would be much more straightforward than crafting a totally new table, right?

And of course, the most practical question begged to be asked, "What would duh diss-erence in cost look like?"

Jack seemed a little surprised at the suggestion, and Javier immediately wondered if he had said something stupid. It made sense in his mind that jack would be better off with a wardrobe designed specifically for her. But she seemed to have some tentative questions first.

>>"Would it really 'e easier den altering duh clothes? I'd sink dat designing sings 'd take longer..."

"Initially, yes" Javier nodded "But if we found patterns that work best, it would be a lot easier after. And they would fit better, too."

They would have to re-imagine how clothes on Jack worked. But once they had a few outfits figured out, it would be a lot easier to replicate them.

>>"What would duh diss-erence in cost look like?"

"Well..." Javier paused "There would be some difference because of time, and depending on the kind of fabric you want. But given the original prices and the alterations... I don't think it would be much. Besides, design is a lot more interesting, as a job, than alterations." he added with a grin.

Jack at Javier, her expression something soft and yielding. It didn't take much for her friend to convince her of it.

"I'd 'e down sore it," she said placidly. The worst that'd happen is she wouldn't like the design. But Javi was a friend, and she doubted he'd make her look like a fool, "I nean, you know what I like..."

Another smile.