One might find it strange that Norm is wandering about the old house, humming cheerfully to himself.
(Norm does not hum. Ever.)

He hums as he does paperwork, as he does the dishes, as he goes about fixing the frame on one of the windows (there's a draft from it). This last is what he's doing right now, and he's just tunelessly humming away.

So, either he's finally snapped, or he's got something that he's very pleased about.

I wonder which it is.

Nick drifts in, his feet a comfortable inch or two above the floor, translucent and relaxed, if a bit confused about the slight, tone-deaf noise in the house.
"Norman? Oh, is there something wrong with that window?" He can't feel the draft, you know. "Is something wrong?"
Or right?

Humming?

"Mm?" The humming ceases.

Norm glances over his shoulder. He's smirking faintly.
"Oh, nothing much. It's just the frame's kind of warped, it's letting a draft in. Won't take a minute to fix."

"Oh, all right." he half-turns away, pauses, frowning and taking off his hat, twirling it around one hand.
"You're humming."

"Am I?"

He pauses in whatever he's doing to fix the window, and thinks back.
He doesn't hum,... oh, wait.

"I was, wasn't I. Heh. Sorry. Was it bothering you?"

"Not at all." But I am now suspicious.
"Why might you be humming?"
Is it a girl? He hopes it's a girl (cue evil laughter).

"Just because..."

He's got a foolish, self-satisfied sort of grin on, now.
To some people, this is instantly decipherable as a girl-related grin.

"It's - something good happened," Norm says vaguely, shrugging.

"It's a girl, isn't it?" he leans forward, going slightly opaque in his eagerness. "You lied when you told me there wasn't a girl."

"I didn't lie," Norm shakes his head, still grinning. "There wasn't a girl, when you asked me before."

He turns around and leans against the windowsill, lifting a hand to adjust his glasses (and hide the blush creeping onto his face).

"See, we were just friends, then. We're not just friends anymore. So now there's a girl."

"Is there, now?" his eyes gleam, and he grins. "What's her name?"

"Uh, Samantha."
Pause.
"Well, Sam."

He will neglect to mention that they haven't even been on a real date yet, if he can.

"What does she look like? How old is she? Have you been on a date?"

He doesn't think that he sounds like your nosey aunt at all, but many would beg to differ.

"She's pretty. She's got uh,.. well, she changes her hair color a lot, I'm not sure what its original color is," he admits bashfully, very nearly squirming under the questions. "Her eyes are green,... she wears colored contacts, though. She's -...well, she's pretty."
She's also an elf.
Norm is not sure whether this is something Sam would want him to mention, and so he doesn't.
"She's, uh, almost twenty. Her birthday's next week."
Pause. Have they been on a date?
"...Not really. Not yet."

"You haven't been on a date yet?!"
It's a little sad that this is basically the most excitement Nick's had since he dragged a bleeding, semiconscious Norman to the hospital all that time ago.
"Well, when are you going to--where? When are you going to bring her here?"

"We're going out this weekend. For coffee."
There is a pause in which Norm stares silently at Nick.
"You ask a lot of questions," he remarks good-naturedly. "Um. I don't know when I'll bring her here. Soon, maybe. I said I'd show her around..."

"Only coffee?" He is vaguely disappointed. Back in his day, you took a girl out to dinner, and absolutely nothing less than that.

"Well,... yeah."
Norm wilts a little, though he doesn't see what's wrong with it. Lots of people go out for coffee on their first dates.
"We haven't planned anything else for afterwards,..." He brightens. "I'm taking her out on her birthday, though. That's going to be special."

"Somewhere nice, of course."
Unquestionably.
He has his hands folded blissfully together at his chest, a grin almost as silly as Norm's earlier one on his face.

He knows a few nice places. He hopes Norm asks.

"Yeah. I mean, I don't know what we're going to do yet. I'm still thinking on it... we've done so much together already that I've got to think of something that'll stand out."
Sigh.
"What would you do?"
Nick is much older than he is, and therefore must have more experience. He'll know what to do.

"I would take her to a beautiful restaurant on the water, and then I would take her back home for champagne."
And other things. But that's not really appropriate to mention.

Nick was very, very well-off when he was alive.

"For her birthday, though?" Norm frowns. "That seems more... date-ish, doesn't it?"
Pause.
"Not that I've thought of anything better, mind you..."

"For her birthday, you must include dessert with the champagne."

Oh, this is just such fun!

"Hm."
Norm gazes into the air above Nick's head, with a very considering look.
"...That could work."
He could,... he could even make a dessert instead of buying one ready-made. Ha. How about that?
Well, he could.
"I might just do that."

"Glad to be of help."
He is, after all, an expert.
...from 1917.

"Well, that's one problem solved," Norm sighs.

He smirks and starts making mental lists of what he's going to need to do. What restaurant, for one, and what dessert, and... lots of things.

"Are there others?" he pauses, tapping one foot lightly and soundlessly on the air. "Do come into the living room, Norman. And thank you for fixing the window."

"Mm? Oh, no. Just thinking aloud."
He doesn't even smirk when he says that.
"Hey, no problem." And now a smile as he dusts off his hands. "It's what I'm here for."

"Have you kissed her yet?"
Clearly, his mind has yet to stray from that subject. It's the most interesting thing that's happened in a while.
He wonders how Lexi would react if...
Nah. It's a silly thought. Not an unpleasant one, though.

"Wh-"
He cuts himself off - that seemed just a little bit to out of the blue - and stares.

"Well...sort of."
Just a little.

Nick jams his hat cheerfully back atop his curls, grinning.
"How do you sort of...?"

Norm blushes. He's of the unfortunate sort who turns red to the tips of his ears when he blushes, and he's doing so now.

"Well, I just kissed her on the cheek," he says defensively. "Not that it's really any of your business."

It probably doesn't help that Nick has his faintly translucent hand over his mouth and seems to be holding back some kind of chortling laughter.
"I, uh...you're right, of course. Sorry."

He huffs and runs a hand back through his hair, possibly making it more of a mess than it already is.

"You're laughing at me," he accuses, frowning.

"No, no..." he pulls his hat down low and turns his face away.
"Not laughing...not at you."

"Really."
Norm's voice is flat, devoid even of sarcasm.
"Of course you're not." He snorts. "When was the last time you had a girlfriend, then?"
Translation: Unless you're doing better, don't laugh at me.

"Well, that isn't fair."
He 'hmphs' through his nose and proceeds to look miffed.
"You have the distinct advantage of a pulse."

"Technicalities," Norm says dismissively, though he's managed to scrounge up a smirk from somewhere. "Ask my exes if my having a pulse is good thing."

"It's an advantage, but a pulse isn't all you need to satisfy a woman."
A little shrug. He knows all about satisfying women (prior to 1920).

"Okay. So..."
He crosses his arms.
"When was the last time you had a girlfriend?"

He sighs and rolls his eyes.
"Before I died, obviously."