[ An automated voice speaks because someone hasn't bothered to set up a proper voicemail. The only part in her voice is her name. ] You have reached Agent Texas. Leave a message at the tone.
[ He's practiced, in fact, and thank god for that. He'd broken something the first time he'd tried to have sex - and the next two times after. Those had been unpleasant to explain to the ImpMil doctors ... He's careful to brace himself so as not to have all of her weight on top of him, and subtly shifts her if he feels too much pressure on a particular bone.
Otherwise he is furiously making out with a hot mercenary woman on the beach. Miles is very, very happy with this development, even - especially when she draws a bit of blood. Eventually, though, this is going to get to be rather too much for him to bear without being able to ... er, relieve himself at the end. He slows ever so reluctantly. ]
[ This close to him, it's hard not to notice where quite a bit of his blood is rushing. It was part of why she'd given him that warning, so there was no question where her line was.
When she feels him slowing in intensity, she pulls back enough to get a good look at his face and reaches to thumb gently at the cut on his lip. ] Getting hot under the collar?
[ It'll be hard to forget the look on his face next time she sees him. With some reluctance, she slides off of him, rolling onto the blanket beside him. Teasing: ] You've got that lean-to of yours if you need a moment.
[ She elbows him, lightly of course. ] So you do have some shame.
[ There's a brief pause as she watches him out of the corner of her eyes. He's certainly different. Her focus shifts skyward as she says something that rarely crosses her lips. ] Thanks for setting this up.
[ She settles so one arm rests behind her head as a cushion while the one near him is by his side. When was the last time she took the time to stare at the stars like this? ]
I get the feeling you did too. Think you can top this on the second? [ Date, that is. He's earned her consideration for another one anyway. ]
[ She doesn't doubt that one bit. If he succeeds this well, his failures must be amazing to watch. ]
If you haven't managed to talk your way into owning a vehicle yet, I can even pick you up next time. [ She remembers the approving look he had given the motorcycle when she first arrived. ]
I hope you cleaned the bottle off before chilling it. [ That's good to know, that he can take more than just people through with his teleportation ability.
Without a glance over at him, she reaches to give his hand a light squeeze before she's standing and ready to pack things up. ] Figure out what you want to take back, not all of it is going to fit in my bags.
Only if you text me after a few drinks. [ Because she has a feeling drunk texts from him would be gold. Now that he's moved, she starts sliding whatever's left of the food out of the way so she can fold the tarp into some semblance of order. ]
[ He helps gather things too - eyes the blintzes, decides to at least pack them ultra carefully back into the basket that had held the food and see if he can't get them back unsquished. Everything else he leaves for the birds.
He has a brief, wild moment of temptation to grab onto everything he can and see if he can get them to shrink down along with him. Alas, he'd miss out on seeing the motorcycle ride that way, and he'd much rather have that than a tiny sandwich plate. Abandoning it all to the seagulls it is. ]
[ She's about to gather everything up when she remembers she's forgetting one important part. With a smirk, she picks up her helmet and slides it onto his head.
She teases, ] Don't want you breaking anything.
[ Tarp under one arm and the bottles of alcohol in her other, she heads to her motorcycle to pack what she can in her saddlebags. ]
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failureisntachoice) wrote2015-09-11 12:57 pm
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Otherwise he is furiously making out with a hot mercenary woman on the beach. Miles is very, very happy with this development, even - especially when she draws a bit of blood. Eventually, though, this is going to get to be rather too much for him to bear without being able to ... er, relieve himself at the end. He slows ever so reluctantly. ]
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When she feels him slowing in intensity, she pulls back enough to get a good look at his face and reaches to thumb gently at the cut on his lip. ] Getting hot under the collar?
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Afraid so. My apologies, you are just - exciting.
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[ It'll be hard to forget the look on his face next time she sees him. With some reluctance, she slides off of him, rolling onto the blanket beside him. Teasing: ] You've got that lean-to of yours if you need a moment.
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I couldn't do that. Go off and - during the date, goodness. Rude in the extreme.
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[ There's a brief pause as she watches him out of the corner of her eyes. He's certainly different. Her focus shifts skyward as she says something that rarely crosses her lips. ] Thanks for setting this up.
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[ He shifts, a bit, to a more comfortable position. Ah ... that's good too. He's glad to drink in her expression just the same. ]
Of course. I'm glad you enjoyed it.
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I get the feeling you did too. Think you can top this on the second? [ Date, that is. He's earned her consideration for another one anyway. ]
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I'm going to try. Hard enough that even failure ought to be entertaining.
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If you haven't managed to talk your way into owning a vehicle yet, I can even pick you up next time. [ She remembers the approving look he had given the motorcycle when she first arrived. ]
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Could you give me a ride home too?
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Yeah, I can. I don't have an extra helmet, but you can use mine if you promise not to leave smudges on the visor.
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[ He can't help but grin a bit. ]
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How did you get all of this here?
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Tarps are waterproof. Blanket and food were delivered. The wine I carried too.
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Without a glance over at him, she reaches to give his hand a light squeeze before she's standing and ready to pack things up. ] Figure out what you want to take back, not all of it is going to fit in my bags.
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[ That small gesture is enough to fluster him a bit; he reddens, taking it in. ]
... The wine and the tarps, if we can. The food we can leave for the seagulls. As much as I hate to waste it.
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[ She nudges her helmet off the edge and into the sand with her foot. She stares at him expectantly as she reaches for the corners of the tarp. ]
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Yes, if you'll part with it. And if we have enough room.
[ He also obligingly gets up off the tarp. ]
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We can make room.
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[ He helps gather things too - eyes the blintzes, decides to at least pack them ultra carefully back into the basket that had held the food and see if he can't get them back unsquished. Everything else he leaves for the birds.
He has a brief, wild moment of temptation to grab onto everything he can and see if he can get them to shrink down along with him. Alas, he'd miss out on seeing the motorcycle ride that way, and he'd much rather have that than a tiny sandwich plate. Abandoning it all to the seagulls it is. ]
... That should be all.
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She teases, ] Don't want you breaking anything.
[ Tarp under one arm and the bottles of alcohol in her other, she heads to her motorcycle to pack what she can in her saddlebags. ]
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Alas, we're protecting the wrong part of my body in that case. I'm too hard-headed.
[ Miles, meanwhile, goes to inspect the motorcycle. Not so different from a lightflyer, he supposes. ]
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It'll have to do, I didn't bring the suit. Think you can hold on tight enough?
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