A tall ship and a star to steer her by (starwreck) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2012-04-28 17:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, james kirk, janice rand |
Has anyone ever told you how absolutely adorable you can be?
who: Jim and Janice
what: Jim finally admits a few things to Janice. There's painting. And flirting. But no sex in the painting room!
When: not long after this
Where: Janice's home
Status: complete
Rating: PG-13..ish.
Jim had cracked open another beer, settling on the couch. Janice was, frankly, confusing the hell out of him. He took a sip. She seemed rather vulnerable right now. He actually wasn't sure how to deal with that in a way that wouldn't get him slapped.
If she was confusing him, then he was equally confusing her. She hadn't expected someone like him to start to leave without meeting a situation head-on and confronting it. She only knew that she'd said something wrong, and felt...guilt? She wasn't sure what it was, precisely. But it compelled her to try to stop him, even if it felt like she was launching a major insurrection simply pinching onto his shirt like that.
Nevertheless, he'd requested that she painted, and so that's what she did. She began to get her paints back out and was mixing the colors with what seemed to be practiced precision in the shades and tones. A smooth long brush stroke, and she began putting down a tendril of faded blue-green gases upon the canvas.
Situation? Awkward. Even she was dwelling on what to say next, but she didn't dwell too much. It seemed she found a question worthy of asking, "Why do you keep putting so much importance on those dreams? By importance, I mean that you mention them a lot."
He'd gotten a little pissed off. Maybe a smidge. He took another sip, watching her as she mixed colors. He shrugged a shoulder, "Because I'm not the only one having them. Because they...feel right." Maybe it was a sense of dissatisfaction with his life, but he didn't think that was it. He wasn't one to retreat into dreams or fantasies.
He took a long swig of that beer, "That's all."
"Is that all? Because you don't sound, or seem, like a head in your clouds sort of person," she glanced back at him over her shoulder, raising an arm up to stop one of the rolled up sleeves from slipping down. She even pushed it down using her forehead when that arm raise had failed to work. "I mean, you seem like such a take charge and do it sort of guy, if you get something in mind. You mention sailing off, even if it was unwise, and what's someone like me supposed to think? You might be serious, you might dive into things. That's what we think. And sure, some situations require immediate action, so that's not a bad thing. But it's probably not...from what I'm gathering...what you want to be known or recognized for."
Seriously. She was adorable. Jim smirked at her, "I think I felt a little powerless. Like there should have been a way for me to find her or go after her. But there wasn't. Its..frustrating. I feel like Scotty, brimming with ideas and banging my head against seemingly arbitrary obstacles."
She was not adorable. Janice would state she's simply Janice and this is her natural state, though she did have bouts where she'd sarcastically snap and tell someone to go take a flying leap, but that was really only when the person was being ultra creepy or totally, unnecessarily obnoxious and belligerent. Then it was okay, otherwise, she was used to her work and trying to stay on people's good side. For the most part. Sometimes she stole things from people's lunches in the breakrooms, like dipped into their ziplock bags and took a carrot stick or two. She was essentially a corporate breakroom ninja. But only after she did a camera check while getting a cup of coffee, to make sure she wasn't going to get caught.
She continued painting and was silent for a long moment, as though she was trying to figure him out more. When she finally spoke, it was less with the words sounding as though they had hard edges, and more thoughtfully put, "And this Scotty person has dreams like you do? You mentioned others. What sort of ideas are you getting in your heads? And why do you keep mentioning my paintings?"
Adorable. She was adorable.
ANd she totally seemed like a breakroom ninja. It was in the way she wore her hair.
"Scotty and I shared the exact same dream. And your paintings feel like they have ...meaning. And they're beautiful."
"If they have some meaning, I really don't know what it is. Though you seem to think it's to do with nebula in space. Tell me, though. What was the dream about," she asked, slowly drawing the brush over the canvas, illuminating the edge of what looked to be a glowing, growing cloud. "Unless it's something very personal, between you two."
Briefly, and without embellishment, Kirk described the scene on the bridge, word for word and fact for fact. Then he added, "There were people there I haven't met yet, never seen in my life, and yet they exist. Scotty is working with one, in fact. Spock was in..several..before I'd ever met him."
Janice stopped painting in the middle of him telling her the dreams, and was staring at him, with such intensity it might be like she was trying to stare through him.
"You do realize how utterly insane that sounds, I hope. I can't even begin to...how would that happen? Why would that happen?"
He put the beer down and held out his hands like 'you tell me, woman!' Then he picked it up again and finished it, crushing the can, "The crazy isn't even the part that bothers me. It feels like there's something out there waiting for me, if I can only just grasp it..."
"The bigger question is where is 'out there' precisely. Because its sounding like out there, might be..." Janice pointed upward, with her paintbrush. Hint hint!
Jim shrugged again. That wasn't the full extent of it, but he isn't feeling particularly clear about it even to himself. He wasn't even sure why he'd let her talk him into coming back in. He was pretty sure it mostly had nothing to do with the short shorts. Or the adorablenessWhich she insists does not exist! She was worried and didn't feel right letting him leave like that, without trying to come to some sort of understanding. That's why they were both there, right now. At least, she hoped she could understand it all, but it was incredibly hard to, when he had some pretty tall stories to tell.
"Do you think that's what it is? Don't shrug. Simple yes or no would work. I've dealt with people who thought they were lizard people from outer space, Jim. I hardly think you're going to shake my foundations of belief too much."
"I honestly don't know," He replied. He'd answer that way even if he was under the effects of truth serum. He didn't know, and it was pissing him off, "They started up suddenly and have been happening nearly every night since. Maybe I am crazy."
It was time for another beer.
"If you're asking yourself if you are, then you probably aren't crazy. A crazy person wouldn't recognize their own craziness," quipped Janice, though she did look a little worried, and touched the wooden end of the paintbrush to her lower lip, like she was thinking. It was the same gesture she'd done many times before, using the end of her pens. She stared at him and slowly turned so she was facing the canvas again, starting to once again dab on some paint, here and there. "Nothing as a catalyst? Just randomly started up?"
See? Adorable. She was being adorable right now right this minute! He just raised his eyebrow at her habit, "Nothing I can place as a catalyst."
Jim got up, taking her wine glass and pouring her some, bringing it over, "Here."
"Oh, thanks." She put the palette down to take it, holding the brush still in her other hand, lightly clasped between her index and middle finger. Gratefully, she took the glass and took an ever so brief sip, looking like she was given some great mystery to figure out. One she didn't mind dwelling on it. It all seemed pretty interesting, after all. "Fantastical tale. If this is true, like you make it out to be, then I've heard a lot about this being the end of the world, people awakening, that sort of stuff going on. People with signs out on street corners. But I don't really believe that the world's going to end. Maybe that's why you're building a spaceship. Get the hell off the planet?"
She almost laughed. Almost. Not quite. It didn't seem appropriate.
"Me neither. I do think if Scotty's inventions are half as genius as I believe they are, we're talking the sort of technological jump we haven't seen since the microprocessor." He put the bottle down, "Though that's not a bad idea. End times or not, you have to admit having the entire species in one basket is a terrible, terrible idea."
"That's a good point," she said, and one corner of her mouth curved upward like the thought of that single egg basket being dropped amused her a little bit. "Might have to make some room on your lap, because I'll want off this ball of mud if things start to go haywire."
He returned to the couch, toasting her with his can, "You're always welcome in my lap, Janice."
"Hopefully the seat's not too hard or the ride's going to get uncomfortable." Wut? Janice shut herself up by drinking some more of that wine. Pronto.
"There are ways of taking care of that," He replied, smirking behind his can.
"Mmm," she almost spit the wine back into the glass, but stopped herself at the last second, cheeks puffed out a little bit and lips pressed together into a puckered o' shape. Swallow, dammit, swallow! There, much better. She coughed lightly, once, twice, and blurted out, "Depends on how long that ride's going to take."
Wow, was that truth serum still in effect or what? It wasn't, but it sure felt like it. Wine? It was to blame.Well, its always better to swallow. Also. Adorable. "Sometimes you need to give a little more effort, but the time taken is worth it. It depends on how much manual exertion is required."
"We're sitting, how much more exertion is involved if we're in space?" Ahem. Wow, this guy had a way of making a situation totally go unprofessional. Hilarious though it may be, she was trying to remind herself that she'd probably regret shooting her mouth off this much, in the morning. "I also can't paint anymore. Not anything you're doing, but I need to wait for this underlayer to dry out before I apply more, or it's going to look like a puddle of smeared crap instead of...whatever it is."
Well she could do other things with those pouty lips of hers. And yes, he'd thought about it. Once or thrice, "A beautiful nebula for a beautiful painter."
Then he patted his lap, playfully. He knew damn well she wouldn't go for it, but maybe he'd get another of those smiles.
"Ohh, you're bad." The smile was a knowing one even if it was there for only a fleeting instant. She wagged a finger at him like she was onto him, too. One very lengthy sip of wine and she went back to cleaning the brushes, just as she'd done before. Though this time, without insulting him. "Flattery now? You really do like to blur the lines, don't you?"
He got the smile, therefore he won, "Janice, flattery is flattery. There's no line to blur there. I call McCoy beautiful all the time."
"McCoy is...? Oh, you have someone else on the side, too. You playa. It's like you have your own posse." Her voice was made of pure unfiltered teasing him, outright. She finished shaping the last brush, covered her paints, and walked toward the couch. Kept right on walking, past his lap, but she did sit down on the couch, at what she deemed was a respectful distance. Not that far away but not too close either. She languidly swirled the wine around in the glass, without paying attention. "Male or female, or does that not matter?"
It could stand another few inches closer, but he didn't mind, "I'm secure enough in my masculinity to joke around with other men. Though I'm worried Bones might be taking things the wrong way." He frowned, worriedly. He really didn't want to hurt his friend or anything.
"Oh so it's a he, and that's an odd nickname." She tilted her head and watched him, before her eyebrows knitted together a little bit. "What makes you worried about that? Did the joking go too far?"
"Bi the way," Jim quipped, and winked at her. "I'm not sure if we did anything when we were smashed the other day.."
"...did you wake up with an ass ache?" Well there she went, being blunt again. Ooops. Janice took a very long drink of her wine, enough to drain it entirely, while darting her eyes to and fro.
"Janice Janice Janice, you know I'd be top," He retorted. "That's less gay, its not like I haven't done that with women before." He paused, then added, "Well I suppose taking it isn't so gay, if you've been with kinky enough women. Really, I always figured if you go down on someone, that's the key." Nod. "Like you can finger a girl, but unless you go down on her? Not gay."
"That makes zero sense. You're a woman and you're fingering a girl? You're still attracted enough to at least be bisexual, and then go down on her. What about tonguing and fingering at the same time? Because that's a combination and it renders your point moot, too. Only saying."
Shoot. Empty glass. Janice kept right on talking while she set the wine glass aside and reached over him for one of those beers, "It's just the same as saying you wouldn't be gay if you gave a guy a handjob, but you would be if you sucked his dick. If you're comfortable enough to grab it and keep on going? You're probably bisexual anyway."
"Tongue on private parts? Gay." He added, "It's a bit different with guys." He hadn't thought about the handjob part. She made a good point, "Okay, grabbing breasts?"
"Still enough incentive there to grab, if not intoxicated. Bisexual, at least. If not gay." Janice sat back, right next to him, and popped open the beer with practiced ease. She even took one hell of a long drink from it, like she hadn't had beer in a good, long while.
That was sexy. He slapped himself, mentally, "Have you? Ever been with a woman in any capacity beyond kissing?"
"Once. I only wanted to try it though, but wasn't feeling it too much. We didn't get past the fondling part." She was being one hundred percent truthful. "She was pretty and I was young. But I don't look at girls and get turned on. What about you? You obviously let yourself get close to this Bones person, right?"
"I don't get turned on. Its more amusing. And to get a rise-" pun intended "out of people."
"At least we've got ourselves figured out that much," she said with a shrug, reaching up with one hand to take the paintbrushes out of her hair and let it tumble down over her face and shoulders. "Did you ask him if he remembered if anything went on or not?"
He stared at her for a moment, then shook his head, "Didn't feel awkward, so I didn't want to make it awkward." He wondered if she was doing that on purpose.
Unfortunately for him? Nope, she wasn't. Right down to her combing her fingers through her hair and rubbing a bit, while drinking more of beer. Someone was going to sleep really hard that night. Beyond log or like a rock. More like an entire mountain range.
"I guess that's okay but you know, if you're going to bring it up to someone like me, it's probably on your mind. And maybe you should have asked him. If he's your friend, he's not going to take it personally."
Well at least she wasn't doing it on purpose. Wait, that was almost worse. Unintentionally sexy. He put a hand on hers, "Not so fast, Rand. You're drinking like a fish. I'll ask him. Happy?"
She didn't flinch or move away. It didn't feel right at the time, so she didn't bother with a retreat. Then again, the wine and beer probably were not helping matters either.
"Hmm? It doesn't really matter if it makes me happy, but if it makes things feel better for you so it's not on your mind. And I can handle my liquor. Don't you worry about that."
Bravado. She secretly had a bit of it, too. And liquor was wasn't called ‘liquid courage’ for nothing.
"Of course it matters if it makes you happy. Everyone needs to be happy." He rolled his eyes, "Well it makes you bolder and more blunt than usual. You have quite the mouth."
"I've been told," she said, about her mouth. And she meant about the occasional ability to snark when she'd had a few too many, not...other stuff. "As for the happy, we're talking about you, aren't we? You asking that won't make me happy, it's something that's up to you. If you even want to know. I guess it’ll put your mind at ease. So there's no awkward with you and him."
He meant both ways, naturally, "Making you smile makes me happy, too."
"Why would that make you happy?" she wondered, out loud. "We barely know each other. You almost ran out of here because what I was saying was a little too sharp tongued."
"You need to smile more," He replied, resting a hand on her arm. "I consider you a friend. I like my friends smiling."
"Some people don't smile a lot. Not everyone wants to be running around looking like a grinning idiot," she pointed out, with a little snerkle of amusement. The snerk sounded like a little nose snorting noise. "You should just like people for the way they are, sir."
"I'm not saying being a grinning idiot," He pointed out right back. "You snorted! Has anyone ever told you how absolutely adorable you can be?"
"What? No. Why would they?" Now she started to lean away but it was in that 'what you talkin' about Willis?' sort of manner. Like she couldn't believe what he was saying, not that she was offended he'd touched her. The beer is pretty much obliterating that. "I'm not doing anything differently or out of the norm."
Kirk snerkled, in a perfect imitation.
Ok, that was cute and a little charming because of the cute factor, but it was coming from him, so that made it different.
"Don't turn it into a copycat game." She poked a finger into his arm, over and over again while she was talking. Not a hard jab, only a poke. poke. poke. Lowercase p, nothing uppercase. "I'm supposed to be finding out about you, right now. So spill your guts and I'll give you womanly advice. Whatever you want to say, just say it. Like this expectations thing you think everyone else around you has. You think these people who are your friends, want you to fail or something? I don't get it."
"Imitation and flattery, Miss Rand." He gave her a wink, then grabbed her finger playfully. "No, not at all. It's just that...." He let go of her finger, "I have a certain rep, I cop to that. But I know there's more for me, now. But I feel like no one is going to give me that chance to prove it, because there's nothing I can do to prove it. That's the...frustration."
He seemed surprised at himself.
He let go of her finger and she was left pointing at him, like she'd forgotten to let her hand drop down, or poke him again, or anything. In fact, Janice was staring at him in a slightly buzzed but intensely thoughtful sort of way, like that? She could understand.
"Your reputation probably preceded you," she started to say, then drained the rest of that beer in one go, and set the can aside. "That's a strike against you, since word travels fast in circles of people. It's good you admit it, but it makes it harder to prove when...when you have this sort of...man of action ambience to you. I'm not going to lie, but it's probably going to frustrate you for a while. And with the dreams...you probably have an uphill battle. So? I guess you don't have much choice. Set aside your frustration. Prove everyone wrong."
It seemed as simple as that, to Janice.
"How. Its not like there's going to be a situation where suddenly I'm thrust into the position I feel like I belong in." He threw up a hand in half a 'whatsamatteryou' and shook his head. He already had Uhura hating on him, and then Janice starting with the hot bimbo jokes and it had struck a nerve.
"How?" She reached out with a hand and lightly pushed one of his whatsamatteryou hands away like he should stop that, because it was still pretty obvious and simple. "Prove you have focus and drive, and can take charge of situations. Including these dreams. There's a time to be proactive and a time to be reactive, figure out which you need to be. I'm not saying you need to be Captain Jackass and barking orders at your friends, but have a firm hand with how things are done and being fair about it. You probably made a good step in the right direction, with your privatized space venture. That gives you some focus, isn't that right?"
"It does," He admitted. "But there's only so much I can do." He scratched at the back of his head, "A lot of it is waiting around. And a bit of looking for things." He smirked, "Like old Russian missiles."
"That's a good way to pass the time and still be constructive, but I'm guessing you must get a little restless. Maybe ask yourself what else you can bring to the table, other than working on that stuff. Get a basic understanding of everything that's going to be involved, by getting your hands into it, and getting a little experience," she suggested, hooking one arm around the back of the couch and turning to face him. "You put a lot of weight on this Scotty guy's shoulders, too. Maybe offer to help him out, or start asking for your other dream friends for help with it. Make it go faster."
"I've already asked Spock. He's almost as uncertain as you are, but he's willing to try." Kirk nodded...then hesitated. Like something was on the tip of his tongue.
She tilted her head and was watching him, not sure why it looked like he was going to say something else and it was left hanging. Janice began to speak in a soft whisper like maybe it was a hint, that it was all right to keep talking, "Jim, go on. I think you kind of cut off something there. Is it about this Spock person?"
"Spock, McCoy, Scotty, Uhura..really all of them. But Spock and Bones. Especially Spock." He frowned, "There's this connection.. I can't really explain it. It transcends words. Its just there. Really, we're opposites, we should hate each other. We almost did."
"What changed that then? That you almost did hate each other and yet now, you don't?"
"Maybe we got to know each other better. I don't know. The dream with him in them involve him beating the shit out of me. But get this, I provoked him on purpose to get him to relinquish command, because he was emotionally compromised after watching his mother die."
Kirk nodded, "Mother is his rage-button."
"Mother is a big rage button for most people, unless they don't care if their own mother dies or not," Janice pointed out, and was nodding also.
She sat back and started to lean back. Her shoulders met the opposite end of the couch, and she stretched her legs right out, over his legs, and laid there, one arm crooked over the top of her head, making a half-circular shape. All the while, she was lazily gazing at him. Thanks, beer. "So you were playing a little game of chess, with someone's emotions. And it put you in command. Which is what you wanted. I bet a lot of conflicted feelings is due to you probably feeling guilty about that, because it was a shit move on your part. Even if it was necessary."
Kirk could have clarified but he didn't want to break Spock's confidence. He'd made a promise, after all. He was actually a little miffed that Spock hadn't dreamed about his yet. And felt a little guilty bringing him up this much. Absently, he stroked at her legs, then started to massage her feet. This was..pleasant.
"It was a shit move. But lives were at stake. We couldn't afford to delay."
Ohhh that was nice. She even wriggled her toes a little and that earned him a lazy little smile in response. As for what he was telling her? Wouldn't leave her lips. She took the strictest of confidences thing as being very serious business.
"Then the ends justified the means. You did what you had to do, even if it sounds like it wasn't the nicest or neatest way of doing it. Sure, it's only a dream, or...now I don't know, it's a whatever it is. Maybe this is a dream and you're really somewhere else, in bed, asleep, and not realizing it."
Kirk's foot rubs were legendary in certain circles, and he was hell bent on proving that, at least, "Well it's pleasant enough. Doesn't stop me from feeling shitty about it, though I didn't get enough time to think about it. Things were urgent. And it felt like I knew something very important but I never remember when I wake up."
Oh, she was not going to disagree with anyone in those circles, nope. She was practically lulled into submission. Practically, if not for the fact that her eyes were half opened but she was still very much focused and watchful.
"Maybe you'll remember eventually. When the time's right. And maybe he will, too. It's going to require a little thing known as patience."Damn it woman, moan. "Maybe," Jim muttered. The only time he felt at home anymore was sitting in that damned chair. It was half the reason he'd come out - he needed to fight that feeling.No! Buzzed or not, Janice made a very astute observation, "You think I'm somehow involved in this, don't you."
"No.. Maybe a little. I don't know. There's something about those paintings."
"You honestly believe that. Do you want me to burn you a disk, since you seem so fascinated with them?" She thought at least it was a good offer to make, and maybe he'd see there wasn't any real connection.
"Sure, fantastic!" His fingers were illegal in several states.
She could tell. She was considering arresting them, before they relaxed her so much she dozed off. There was no waking up, then. But damn, they were good.
"I'll get started on that, as soon as you stop rubbing my feet that waaa-..." She almost finished saying 'way' but it was cut off by a yawn. "Oh that's goooood."
No time for a victory \o/, there were feet to massage. He found a particularly sore spot in the center of her left foot, "You're not fully melted yet."
"Oooh, ooo, right there, yes." Dammit, she needed to stop sounding like she was purring, that's not right at all. Or was it? Because it felt right. And a lil bit naughty too. "And why are you trying to melt me, of all people? It might ruin our wonderful working relationship."
"Just let go and take it, Janice." Jim laughed, working that spot furiously, "You need a melting. Call it thanks."
"For what? I haven't done anything." She smushed her face up a smidge, with a little nose wrinkle like he was being a little stinky. She wasn't afraid to show it. "You're not really giving me a choice. Oh, this is my fault. I used you as a ottoman."
Jim moved to the other foot, massaging that one, "I'm serious. Thank you. I really...needed this."
"To talk? Why didn't you say this stuff to your friends? I'm sure they would've listened. Wouldn't they? Or do you have that much of a bad reputation?" She was teasing out right now, and even began to laugh. And Janice's laugh was a bit wicked sounding, comprised of secret evil delight. She couldn't manage a successful bwahahaha or anything, but it was close for a girl version. "I'm teasing you...I'm not serious!"
Well Uhura hated him - and damn that stung some how - but she had a good point, "I think I wanted someone who was a bit more objective..." Her laugh was sexyawesome, "At least you're not going 'ohhohohohohoho'?"
"Don't make me kick you, sir."
"Try it and I will suck on your toes."
"Don't make me kick you in the teeth, sir."
Jim eyed her, debating if he should do it.
Janice eyed him back like he should watch it or she might not be so objective. Maybe. Possibly. Ok, fine, she's staring back at him like he better decide if he wants to take the chance or not.
Jim decided to take the chance!
Was he? WAS HE? Janice's eyes went round and she made a high pitched sound in her throat of general WTHedness followed by an aiiieee!
Jim snickered and then nibbled on her ankle.
"I'll get my revenge someday," she promised while smushing one hand over her face and laughing, so he couldn't see her, just hear her.
"Mmm. Go for it." Nibble nibble.
"I so will. That's not a threat it's a promise." She wanted to slap herself because her voice cracked in the middle of saying it was a threat and almost sounded like a squeak.
Kirk made to to Janice's knee, nibbling and nipping at it and beneath it, "I double-dog dare you."
She reached down with one hand, touching her fingertips to the top of his head, and then traced them slowly through his hair, down and around one of his ears. It was as soft as if she'd traced paintbrushes over him, instead of fingers.
"Jim," she said fondly, thanks to the beer, but it wasn't so much that she didn't know what was happening. "How far do you think you're going to get right now?"
"As far as you want me to and only a smidge further," He replied, leaning his head into her fingers and nuzzling a spot between her knee and her hip. Outer thigh? Yeah, that place.
"I don't know if that's wise," she was saying, and starting to sound wary. As well as sorry for having to say this, so she kept her voice as soft as possible, to put it as gently as possible. "It might get complicated. I don't know if you're ready for complicated again. Not yet."
Which was a shame because she was really, really enjoying that. But yeah.
His teeth nipped gently once, then twice, before he rested his head in her lap, stroking her leg lazily, "All right."
Now? He got a smile. And she kept smiling while stroking her fingertips over his eyebrows, down over his nose, and over a cheek. In her mind, his face was familiar to her, but she couldn't place how, or where, or why. Something still seemed wrong, but not only in the sense that some boundary had been broken, but that there was something out of whack somewhere. In a larger context. Maybe it was all that dream talk he'd been telling her? Either way, she was going to chalk it up to that, and try to remain reasonable. And maybe not want to kick her own ass for letting this get totally unprofessional.
Oh well, boundary broken. She'd remain very hush hush about it. Even though she heard herself asking, "You going to stay for breakfast?"
His eyes were closed, and he looked so peaceful that it would be difficult to disturb him, "You're a great cook, how can I turn that down?"
There might be man purring.
That's okay, she might have girl purred right back at him, because she's finding she likes doing that. It's feeling like a very guilty pleasure, that she's indulging in.
"Nothing burned. You good with the couch or can you stick to your side of the bed? Wait, I don't know if I trust you to stick to your side of the bed."
Jim was finding he wanted to be face deep between her thighs, even if didn't return the favor and he had to take a cold shower. That's the effect her caressing was having. He snerked, "Why should I trust you to stick to your side of the bed?"
"Because I'm me and I have the willpower of a saint," said Janice, pit patting him on his forehead with her fingertips, before letting them drift again down over the side of his face, even feathering a finger over one closed eyelid. "And if I'm a saint, then you're the devil."
Jim glanced up at her - sort of, eyes still closed - and his hair actually has little devil horns from sticking up strands. He smiled at her.
Oh that? Was not helping matters. Janice pressed her lips together, before starting to crack up laughing. And she so did start laughing, complete with the near bwahahaness, because that? Was too funny. She wished she had her phone because it simply was the most perfect image ever.
"Your half of the bed, playboy, and don't think that you can simply show up and have this happen again, because it's a special instance."
Fair warning! She was telling herself it was the truth, too.
Jim laughed with her, snuggling up her body until he had his arms around her and his head planted on one jiggling breast. And smootched it a bit. Then again, "Special instance, hmm?"
"Special instance," she confirmed with one twitching eyebrow, grabbing hold of one of his ears, giving it a pinch and a twist. Even that eye was twitching, under that one twitching eyebrow.
Jim groaned, "Jaanniiiice!"
"You pushed the envelope! What'd you expect!"
And another thing, her boobs weren't big enough to be jiggly. They were only perky!
He laughed, "That wasn't envelope pushing." He reached up, stroking her cheek.
They were only jiggly due to laughter.
Okay, he made that better then. And point, because laughter did do that. She released her vice-like grip on his ear and let herself be lulled into reluctant submission.
Jim was a bit of a snuggler, or so it was proving to be so. Janice was warm, he had beer in him, and she was a tease, which he found he liked. It all worked, at any rate. That, and she did seem to like his ass.
What wasn't to like? He had a damn fine ass. Along with the damn fine rest of him and attitude to match. He wanted to make himself better too, so she could appreciate that. A lot. And it wasn't like she felt the need to tame him or anything, either, just make suggestions and say what was what as far as she was concerned. Besides that, it felt right even if she couldn't put her finger on why that was. Her fingers were busy rubbing over his neck. That was probably the only reason (besides wine and beer) she was letting him do this. .... Fine, it was because it felt good, too. Wrong but good.
"You laugh at my bedroom, and I will stab you with one of my ink pens," she warned him.
Just groaning, Jim shook his head. He wouldn't laugh at her bedroom He'd seen worse and it felt utterly fantastic. Maybe he could keep Pinkie as the fuckbuddy and Janice as a cuddle buddy. which seems a waste, someone needs to tap that
If she knew he was thinking that, he'd probably get smacked. In the arm. Lucky she doesn't know, but she wasn't about to let anyone get in her undies (or get her undies off her), right away. Janice was no dummy. She knew that guys went for easy chicks but they didn't tend to stick with the girls who were easy and gave up the goods right away. And she has yet to staple a post it note to him, or duct tape a note somewhere painful, for lulz and retaliation someday.
"Come on, let's get you in bed, Captain Jackass," she said, stroking a fingertip from between his eyebrows, all the way down to the tip of his nose, where she gave it a little tip tap.
And he gave the finger tip a light kiss, then a lick and sucked on it, "I thought you'd never ask, Janice." It was his best unintentional smoldering mansexy voice and look.
Janice considered briefly that she was on the highway to hell. Because guh, that sent a shiver down her spine. He was going to end up on the couch again, if he didn't watch it.
Luckily, it was getting late, and so she was suffering from droopy-eyelids syndrome. So she smiled, faintly, and then wrapped her arms around his shoulders, saying in her best unintentional smokey girl sexy voice, "Carry me to bed?"
He was on the verge of sweeping her up and kissing her. He did sweep her up and was dangerously close to kissing her as he carried her up the stairs. Because...damn..
His hair somehow got more tousled.
Kissing him would be nice. Totally inappropriate but nice. She was thinking that as she was carried to the bedroom, and maybe messing up his hair even more. She liked that tousled look, mmhm.
Once they got in that bedroom though, it was going to be like a visual assault of dusty rose everything. At least there were no cats or trinkets or dolls or anything. But...yeah.
He didn't even notice the pink. He was too fixated on the almost smoldering look on her face. He laid her on the bed and couldn't help it any more, pressing his lips inappropriately against hers, with a little bit of growly.
It didn't help matters that her lips had parted to try to launch a protest, but she never got to finish. Instead there was the hint of a gasp before their lips met and then she pretty much forgot anything, other than the kiss and her fingers moving over the nape of his neck.
It didn't take too long before she swore she heard a klaxon sound of an alarm going off inside her skull. She had to turn her head to break the kiss and tell him in a breathy voice, "We should stop. I like you. There. I admit it. But I want to see where it goes on its own, if it goes anywhere at all."
Her bet was it wouldn't, and he'd grow bored, and she'd be spared some heartache later on down the line.
One of his hands continued to stroke her hair, the other resting on her hip. Jim moved his lips along her jaw, lightly, "It's going pretty nicely on its own."
Well there was the wine, and the booze. He brushed his lips against her earlobe, "Sans liquid courage? Are you afraid, Janice?"
Her eyes flashed like blue lightning as she turned her head and glared back at him, defiantly.
"I'm not afraid. I'm simply not stupid." And didn't want to get hurt was the thing she was leaving out of that statement, entirely.
"I can't promise I won't hurt you," He murmured, shifting so he's alongside her, but still doing wonderful things to her earlobe, and threading an arm around her waist. "But right now, I'm really comfy."
"That's somehow not comforting," she sassily replied, even if he was wicked good at that. She still gave him a nudge with an elbow. "Simply because you're in the bedroom, doesn't mean something is going to happen. Except sleep. Which I'm going to do, right now."
"I never assumed anything would happen, Janice." He sat up and pulled his shirt up. He probably has scars from the cougar on that rippling back.
Out went her finger and she poked at one of those scars, asking abruptly, "What's this from?"
He shivered, "Cougar. Young one. The guys accidentally attracted it."
"A cougar?" she asked, like she hadn't heard right. Oooh this was not helping either, because those were some sexy scars. Janice's expression went pinched like maybe if she'd had one or two more beers, they would've been ripping up the bedsheets and annoying the neighbors. But she simply wasn't drunk enough, not to override her better judgement. Yet, at least. "What'd you do, see it coming and decided to wrestle it?"
He laughed, "It jumped me when I was packing up camp. I'd stayed an extra day after they headed home. Wanted some alone time with nature." He shrugged that shoulder. He was glad he hadn't fed her another beer - he'd have felt guilty in the morning otherwise, "Feels good when the only thing around is the sky and the trees."
"I used to hike, but not that often. If a cougar jumped me, I'd probably be cat food," she confessed, shaking her head at him. She didn't want to feel guilty in the morning, either. "You're lucky you didn't die."
His fingers played with her waistband, "If it had been an adult I'd have been catfood too."
"Lucky it wasn't an adult." She caught hold of his hand, rolled over onto her side, pulling his arm around her waist and holding his hand in both of her own. There. Safe. Comfy.
But he wanted to touch girlflesh! They were vastly over dressed for this.
He would have to wait for Janice flesh. Sorry!
"That shirt can't possibly be comfortable right now."
He had a point. Janice shrugged her way out of the shirt with minimal wriggling, and threw it down over the foot of the bed. Bikini top? Hi. That's all the flesh he's getting, because she's keeping those shorts on. Then it was right back to holding his hand, near her stomach, and closing her eyes like that? That was comfy. Don't mess up the comfy! Enjoy it!
He kissed at her shoulder, comfy like. This was much better.
It was lots better. She even smiled, even if her back was turned to him, and he couldn't see it. Janice snuggled once, twice, and then was silent and still. Like something warm but dead.
Followed nearly one minute later by girl snore.
She was girl snoring. Truth.
Even if his lips were being positively intimate with the nape of her neck. He chuckled, and quickly followed her into lala land. A.dore.able