We all got stuff to R U N from. *SCOTTIE*

[frogette]

OUTFIT OF A RUNNER.

It was one of those deliciously crisp fall days. The kind that were just chilly enough to catch your breath a little off guard, but not so cold that the she had to dawn a parka. Stretching, she waited for Scottie to arrive. Bob, a large German Shepard with alert ears and empathetic eyes, laid near by, watching. He seemed to wished to begin, but Cameron was dead set on waiting for her friend.

Her hair, which was long and sunny blond, was pulled into a messy bun in the back of her head. Straggling locks were pulled out of her eyes of greenish-blue by a headband. Her clothing was simply, comfortable, made for running. Light green yoga pants, chartreuse in shade. Her sweatshirt beneath it was darker, more like a blanched olive, and clung to her hourglass frame. Underneath was just a black sports bra, which pressed her goods against her in hopes of them not attracting too much attention. Besides that, running shoes and socks and a water bottle. She wasn't here to get attention, she was here to run.

Looking around, she tried to find her friend. He was a senior in her College, two years a head of her, and fond of the same washing machine as hers. One day, one of his red socks ended up in her load of whites. Needless to say, she had a lot of pink going on. But he had been genial enough, friendly in his way, and full of banter. So the two became friends.

Though this was subject to change, today. He hadn't seemed all that thrilled at the prospect of running, and she rather enjoyed keeping a steady pace. But it would be fun, after he simply accepted it. And it would give them a moment to catch up, as she was so busy, between school and work.

Not that Scottie knew much about work.

To him, Cameron was a late night secretary of some sorts. This, of course, was not true. Besides mentioning it in passing, once, when they first met, Cameron really never discussed work. The two had more important things to talk about, after all. Did she feel a little guilty that she hadn't really shared her whole life with her good friend. Eh, maybe. They were fleeting moments of guilt. And that was because anyone who knew anything- anything at all- knew that the truth hurt.

Sitting by the large German Shepard, Cameron sighed, looking up at the still peachy-purple sky of morning. "You think he's coming Bob? I'm not so sure." Cameron mused allowed, staring as a plane drew a white line in the sky, a distant hum filling the bird song filled air.

Come on, Scottie boy.

Surprise her.

[SCOTT PARKER]

Honestly, the fact that this girl's idea of a first thing to do with their new friend was to go for a run was seriously getting Scott to reevaluate just how much he cared to continue this relationship. Unfortunately, the witty banter and serendipitous nature of their meeting was enough to get Scott to actually try and bother to go for a run with her rather than risk her labeling him as some lazy fuck that would rather hide in his room doing art instead of going for a nice jog, which was totally true but still... he'd prefer to let her discover that at a later date.

Walking out of the subway station to the stop at Central Park, he couldn't help but crinkle his nose in disgust. Jesus Christ, this was a terrible idea. Running was like, some kind of punishment or form of torture. No one should voluntarily opt to do it. Running ought to be reserved for something forced upon poor, pathetic schoolboys who can't help it and.... well no, that was pretty much it. Something for Gym and Gym alone.

Here he was, dressed like some ugly motherfucker wearing a v-neck, a sweatshirt stained with paint and various other artistic mediums, and some shoes he refused to believe he actually spent money on at some point. Honestly, Cameron deserved to be burned at the stake for forcing him into a gettup this ridiculous. That was another thing right there! There were absolutely NO good looking men's clothes made for workouts that didn't absolutely exude douchebaggery, and they were the one unfortunate category of clothing that did not allow Scott to just go with what he had on for every other occasion. While he could totally get away with going to bed, going to class and getting absolutely smashed at a party in the same paint-covered t-shirt and jeans that he had on the day before, jeans were not known for their athletic capacity. This had forced Scott to go digging through his closet and drawers for the disgusting pair of shorts he had on.

This did not appear to be the promising start to a morning filled with nothing but running.

Scott felt unusually self conscious as he tried to navigate his way towards where Cam had said the two of them were to meet. Everyone else seemed to know just what they were supposed to do as they ran unheeding of everyone else along their way. Scott had no idea how he was supposed to act as people sprinted past with looks of pure concentration plastered on their sweaty faces. Oh! Add that to the downsides of running and athleticism in general. Sweat and the associated scent. Absolutely disgusting.

Scott had absolutely no idea what to do. He was by no means someone who was used to all this running and working out stuff. The first time he saw someone with a water bottle he wanted to kick himself for not remembering something so basic. He just knew that he was going to end up gasping for water on the ground like some kind of fish flopping around on a dock in less than twenty minutes.

It was when he saw her there with her dog that he realized it was too late to go home and pretend to be sick. Sighing heavily, he walked right up to her, hands in his pockets.

"You sure you wanna go through with this whole running thing? I'm sure it's not too late for us to go find a little Starbucks somewhere. Don't you want one of their delicious pumpkin lattes? Oh, and good morning."

runnin' outfit