lady_moon | Indy's Suite

She knocks before entering, but it's quiet.

Well, it's late, it should be quiet.

Moon pads into the suite on her bare feet (she briefly wonders if she's ever owned shoes) and makes her way to Indy's room. The wolves behind her, she stops just over the threshold and turns to them.

"No. You two are staying in the living room. And don't go terrifying the other residents here, all right? Just... be good. Like... normal puppies or something."

Mons sits and tilts her head. Why can we not sleep at the foot of the bed as we did last time?

Because she and Indy intend to make puppies. Mare proudly states this, nuzzling Mons' muzzle.

Moon feels herself flush painfully. "We are not making puppies, Mare. You two are enough for me, thank you, and... just... no!" Gods of the multiverse, she felt so silly. "Go sleep by the sofa and behave."

Mons and Mare trot off, their voices distant to her as they talk between themselves, and she sighs and closes the door to Indy's room.

Puppies?

No.

No puppies, no kitties, no chicks, no calves, no babies.

Moon sheds her clothes, folding them neatly as she does, and chooses to conjure a creamy white slip to wear. She wasn't shy or modest by any stretch of the imagination, but she didn't want to just sit nude in Indy's bed.

That just seems tasteless to her.

She pulls down the sheet and blanket on one side and crawls in and looks around the room as she hadn't the last two times she'd been in it. It was an Indy room, she decides. Very much like him and very much like the rough and laughy drink he'd given her.

Slowly, she smiles, nestling down into the bed where she could smell him so easily.

Oh, she very much likes him, she decides as she waits for his bartending shift to end.

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He wrinkles his nose disparagingly.

"Er. No. It's a one way thing, if it happens at all."

Moon giggles at that.

"This is one of the many reasons I don't wear panties." She nods "People can't steal them if you aren't wearing any."

"Mmmm. True."

There's an air of amusement in Indy's tone now.

"But, it's not like he purloins 'em while I actually have 'em on."

"He'd better not," she says with a giggle.

Moon idly makes patters with her finger on his chest.

As if somehow prompted by her actions, Indy begins to apply some similarly absent strokes to her back, while chuckling at her remark.

"I'll be sure to tell him that they're now under your protection."

She ducks her head and blushes.

"I'd like to see you explain that one to him. 'Moon's a bit off her nut, yes, but she has declared my under shorts her domain to protect, Mike, so you might want to keep away from them for the time being'."

When Indy is done chuckling at that comment, he plants a kiss on the top of her head.

"Knowing him, he'd prob'ly respect that without questioning. Not that I'd ever declare you to be off your nut."

"Then you're very blind to my faults."

She says this sweetly, the appreciation for his comment taken to heart.

"Which is probably a good thing."

"Not blind," Indy corrects.

"Able to appreciate them, and look beyond them."

Moon likes the way Indy words things.

"I have a new talent, though," she says crytically. "One I learned especially for you."

His eyebrows raise again, more quizzically this time.

"You do?"

"I do."

Some giggling.

"Had Skill teach me."

"I'm intrigued."

He makes an urging gesture with his hand.

"Don't hold back. The suspense is killin' me."

"...Unless I've already experienced it and I just didn't realize."

Moon slaps his stomach lightly.

"My siblings don't teach me about sex. That's just creepy." She gives him a Look, then settles back down. "I learned how to make scrambled eggs and toast."

This?

Was a HUGE thing for her.

HUGE.

Indy is quick to pick up on the significance of her accomplishment.

"Wow. Really?"

Learning how to make the same dish without causing havoc would be similarly huge for him. He rewards her efforts with a very appreciative kiss.

"That's incredibly sweet of you."

"And... kinda prudent, given my complete lack of skill in that area. You'll never go hungry in the mornings now."

She grins.

"A girl has to look out for herself sometimes. You can make th coffee, I will make the eggs, and we'll have the ideal morning, hmm?"

He laughs agreeably.

"You've got it all figured out, don'tcha?"

"Breakfast."

She giggles.

"Lunch and dinner, I think we're out of luck. I can make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, but they tend to taste like fish."

At least, to her they do.

"Ugh. That's not right."

He cocks his head at her.

"What're you doing to them?"

"It's the brown," she assures him.

"Oh. Right."

"I keep forgetting it's not always beetles."

"Things I drink that are brown tastes like beetles sound," she insists. "Things I eat -- with the strange exception of brownies -- that are brown taste like fish. Bad fish. Ick. Brownish black things tend to taste like mud. Thick, goopy mud."

She wants him to get it right!

"I wonder if Mike could make pink brownies. You think he could?"

"Prob'ly. Might only be pink frosting though. Not sure you can change the color of the mix."

Indy nods as he commits all the permutations to memory.

"Hey, don't forget the brown drink exceptions that we established tonight."

She hmphs.

"You cheated. You bribed me."

Not that it negated that she liked three of the four drinks.

"Keep bribing me and I might learn to like fishy peanut butter and jelly sandwiches."

"To be fair," Indy points out, "you proposed the terms of the deal before I even had a chance to bribe you."

"Not sure how that's cheating."

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