There were many things that Aaron Hartley could claim to be good at: He was a more than proficient reader. He could work wonders with Calculus and Geometry and Algebra. He could write computer programs that could keep even the most efficent hackers with exceedingly powerful supercomputers from accessing even a byte of information. But put him in a shopping mall and he was at his weakest.

Aaron wasn't helpless in every store. Technology stores were right up his alley. He could even do some furniture shopping. That was no real problem at all. But if you put the man in a clothing store, he was helpless. He usually avoided clothing stores; he had plenty of clothes at home, but none were formal enough to suit (no pun intended) the occasion that had arisen. It had all started that morning.

The obnoxious buzzing coming from his nightstand was not anything uncommon. He used his phone as an alarm clock every night. But there was something different about this ringing. Wait... It was ringing. That was the problem. Fumbling on the nightstand, Aaron achieved nothing but the upheaval of a useless alarm clock, the destruction of a lamp and a short fall for his phone onto the floor, just out of reach. Aaron groaned in frustration and got out of bed to retrieve the displaced device. As he retrieved the device and looked at the caller ID, Aaron groaned yet again. It was never a good thing when your boss called you at 5 a.m. Never.

It had not been what Aaron was expecting. He wasn't in it deep for a mistake he'd made. He wasn't going to be fired. In fact, this was a very good thing for Aaron. His boss had been calling him to request that Aaron meet with perspective clients. Clients from Germany, in fact, and they were to have dinner at a very nice New York restaurant. All paid for by his company. That was actually a very awesome thing. The only problem was that he did not exactly own clothes for this type of dinner. Nor did he really know what kind of clothes he'd need for that.

Along with many of the things Aaron did know came things like psychology. Aaron knew that a majority of human communication was non-verbal. First impressions could make or break a business deal and Aaron was on a rather tight deadline. As in if he didn't land this account, there'd be a line of bosses wanting him dead.

As he stood in between the racks, he grabbed a bunch of different clothes. His method of shopping was, well, methodical. If he tried on one shirt and one pair of pants, he'd have a good three hours of trying on clothes until he found something managable and then he'd be able to leave, exactly two hours before his meeting with the client. He didn't exactly want to do this, but there really wasn't any other way. Aaron continued his search, frustration growing slightly. He began to get slight electric chills in his fingers and then he remembered himself and what was about to happen. Focusing, he dispelled the energy by causing the rack to move a good foot. That was a much better use of his power than making something explode as an outlet.

This is not easy... Aaron thought to himself, sighing. This day was not going to be fun.

Shopping! If there was one thing that Kealey loved…it was shopping! Even though shopping malls were usually fairly crowded places, the blond thought of it as nothing more than a survey of all the outfits on display. So many opinions, so many feelings when people looked at an outfit or an item of clothing. For a fashion major who also happened to be an empath, it was like extracurricular study. Of the best kind.

Most of the people in the store were every bit as happy as Kealey was, browsing the racks, joking with friends, and in general having a really nice time. She made her way through the men’s section at a quick clip, there wasn’t much of interest to her here. Today was for Kealey shopping, and she wasn’t going to be distracted by anything!

Except for that extremely frustrated young man.

Kealey’s curiosity was peaked. How could anyone possibly be that frustrated when they were doing something like shopping? This was therapy.

The blond made her way through the racks, following the frustration like a homing beacon until she came upon the person broadcasting it. He was about her age, and he was gathering clothes with what appeared to be a vengeance. Then…he kind of attacked the rack.

Kealey couldn’t help it, as she watched, she laughed.

”I’m not sure what that clothing rack ever did to you.” she said, moving forward to glance at what he had in his possession.

”but…I hope you’re not planning on putting all of those things together.”

Aaron started a bit at the sudden presence of a person talking to him. He turned a bit surprised, not expecting to see someone standing there watching him. It was actually a bit weird. He then turned to look at the clothing rack and got a bit of a sheepish look on his face. He then blushed furiously at the comment that this random stranger had made about the assortment of clothing that he'd selected from the racks.

"Well, I wasn't planning on wearing all of it..." Aaron muttered, a bit ashamed of his lack of knowledge in this field. "Who are you anyway, the fashion police?" Aaron asked , a bit put off. This was most likely due to the frustration that he was already feeling towards the situation and really had nothing to do with the fact that someone was talking to him. He didn't have any clue what he was doing and he really didn't think he had time to be messing around with some stranger.

Aaron proceeded to grab a few more pairs of pants off of the rack that he had displaced. He then turned and began to stalk off towards the dressing rooms to pair together something out of the assortment that might suit his needs for the evening.

He was irritated by her interjection. Kealey had to admit, she might have been too if she’d been in the same situation. The man at the clothing rack hadn’t asked for her help, and the initially way she’d approached could easily have been construed as rude.

The man was irritated, and a little confused, and a little embarrassed, and a little sheepish. He asked if she was the fashion police.

”I am…just don’t go asking for credentials. I left my bade in my other purse.” she added, turning slightly to display the bag on her shoulder.

Apparently her new friend didn’t find the joke funny…because he simply grabbed more bad clothes and made beeline for the fitting room.

”You’re going to be in there all day trying to find something that looks right in the mess you’ve got in your hands.” she called, not bothering to mask the slightly condescending tone of her voice. This was the mall…this was Kealey’s turf. She’d swoop in like an avenging fashion angel, and this man’s night would go off flawlessly. Kealey smiled at her own ingenuity…it was like paying it forward. The universe had been so good to her lately, it was time for a little payback.

”I’ll bet I could have you dressed to the nines in a half-hour.”

Aaron quickened his pace a bit as he headed towards the dressing room. Perfect. He was being stalked by some crazy chick in the mall when before the most important dinner of his life. This dinner was a make-or-break situation, a go-big-or-go-home moment, fourth and long in the last minute of the Super Bowl... Maybe even as important as Master Chief driving for his life in the end of Halo 2. And he had some crazy blonde chick along for the ride in the gunner seat. Great.

She continued her ranting as he approached the dressing room until he heard something that made him stop dead in his tracks: ”I’ll bet I could have you dressed to the nines in a half-hour.” Half an hour?! a little voice in the back of Aaron's head exclaimed. Think of all the free time we could have! it raved, planning out many activities and things Aaron could be doing. She's crazy! another voice shouted, in a very angel/devil conscience-esque manner. She'll pry make an Aaron suit out of you and call it 'fashionable'! The voice shouted in desperation, trying to get Aaron to flee to the safety of the dressing room.

"Half an hour, you say?" Aaron asked, sounding a bit hesitant. "I have a business dinner with some very, very important clients tonight... Can you help?" he asked, hoping she'd consent.

Kealey didn’t even smirk when the man turned and came back within proper talking distance. You’re welcome universe. she said mentally, a friendly smile on her face as he spoke.

”I’d love to.” she said, ”You see, when I’m not on the beat with the Fashion Police, I’m a design student over at FIT. A student at FIT with a big mouth and no idea when she should mind her own business.” she admitted candidly and contritely.

”It does sound like you need some help though. Big dinners are big….and hard to dress for.”

It sounded like the dinner was important, and from the clothes he’d already picked out…formal. Definitely a shirt and tie thing…he didn’t have any jackets in his arms though…

”Hmmmm.” Kealey said, eyeing the clothes piled in his arms.

”Let’s start with trousers. Put all of those back…” she commanded, then walked to another rack of slightly more expensive, but still very affordable, pants.

”For an important pair of pants, spending a few more dollars is always a good idea. They lay better, look more crisp. If you’re trying to look business-casual, flat front pants are best. Pleats can be too cumbersome….” She waited for him to pick out his size.

”I’m Kealey, by the way.”

"FIT? Isn't that a yoga gym a couple of streets over?" Aaron remarked, a bit confused by the comment. I guess that yoga students might be fashionable... I hope I don't look like an idiot.. he thought, scrambling to put things back on the shelf at the hurried pace that his slightly psycho mentor was showing him.Psycho wasn't exactly the right word for it... Driven might have been better.

She then pointed to a different pair of pants and Aaron picked them up. It was a good thing money was not anything to worry about because they were more expensive than the ones that he'd had before. She then went on about why the pants looked better than the other ones that he'd had. It sounded well enough, so he decided that her advice was credible. He grabbed his size off the rack and put it across his arm.

"I'm Aaron" he said, stepping towards the men's shirts. "What about this stuff over here?" he asked, completely out of his element.

Kealey shook her head, ”FIT is the Fashion Institute of Technology. It’s one of the several fashion schools in Manhatten. Obviously I think it’s the best…obviously I’m biased.”

Kealey was really starting to enjoy this little excursion. Man, it felt good to give back. Especially when the subject of the good deed turned out to be so amiable…if naïve to the ways of the shopping world.

He picked up the pants, even though they were more expensive, and didn’t even complain. He got a point in the ‘good’ column. His name was Aaron. Kealey committed it to memory.

Another mark went into the “good” column when Aaron started making his way to the shirts. Kealey smiled, ” Excellent. Now, I’m guessing that this is going to be a shirt and tie affair, if there are going to be that many people around to impress. We can either go with a shirt that has a bit of a pattern or stripe and a solid tie, do the opposite, or go with a bright colored shirt and a neutral colored solid tie. I think it would make you look too much like a waiter if we did dark pants, dark shirt, and bright tie, though so lets stay away from that. Which do you think you’d be most comfortable with?”