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whiskey_jack (whiskey_jack) wrote in paxletalelogs,

"You think I expected to be here?" Jack replied with a soft, wry little smile. "Don't worry, you didn't hit me too hard at all." The urge to draw her into his arms and comfort her was almost too strong to fight. Damn, he wanted a cigarette. Not in the post-coital sense, but to calm his frazzled nerves. It was a moot point anyway, given that he didn't know where the hell his pants, hence his smokes and lighter, even were. He suspected, though, with that same odd certainty he knew Shae's precious car was safe, that his rented outfit was still at the venue. With luck, it (and the discarded bits and pieces from other peoples' costumes) would be turned over to the Pax management for return to their owners.

And how in the hell did he know all this?

As he drew a deep breath the inner laughter returned, hysterical and derisive. More images and sensations flooded his mind, very specific and very graphic; eyes wide, he relived parts of the previous night that he didn't actually remember: the scents of his two bed partners, their warmth and taste, soft laughter and low moans, teasing with fur and flesh and feathers... except...

...Except. The mental voice howled with laughter. BEST JOKE EVER.

"Kami? Shae?" Jack's voice was a strange mix of disappointed and relieved. "I don't think we actually had sex last night."