thatsamilkshake | Room 505, Tuesday After Radio

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Room 505, Tuesday After Radio

Not that Francine didn't always stay up to listen on Katchoo's radio nights, but after this morning, she wasn't sure she was ever going to sleep again, thanks.

Shower, on the other hand, she might do that again. But maybe not until morning. More than four in one day and you start to risk chafing.

Right now, though, she was just sitting up in bed with the lamp on and the blankets pulled up, reading about ~~wildern~~ Rodents of Unusual Size, and resolutely not falling asleep.

[OOC: For the bffroomiethingperson. Hey Chewie, don't broadcast this; it's after you get back!]

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"Cover-hog."

Katchoo reached over to tap her on the nose. "But a warm cover-hog."

"Most cover-hogs are. Comes from having all the covers." Francine tugged said covers up. "Cover sharing rules are... you have to share the covers. They're actually pretty flexible."

"Who knew?" And this would be Katchoo trying to swipe more of the pillow. Hey, if she had to share the covers evenly . . .

This would be Francine bopping her lightly on the head with a battered Snoopy. Then - and okay, even through the tiredness a tiny bit of weird slipped through because it was different now - she put an arm around Katchoo. "C'mere. For maximum pillow-conservation."

Different, and making Katchoo the tiniest bit crazy (crazier?) out of worry that she might push a little too far too soon. "You make a good one anyway."

Hell of it was, exhausted as she felt she didn't want to close her eyes. And she wasn't going to be the one who made a move to turn out the lights, not now when she was comfortable and turning out the lights would mean . . . that it'd be dark.

Did she see Francine reaching for the lamp? No, no she did not.

"Oh good; I'll have something to fall back on if my World Clarinet Tour deal goes bust."

Yes, and verily, there would have been bitching of some mild, low-energy variety had a move so much as been made for that lamp. "But how would I afford to pay you?" Katchoo asked.

"You can sell your paintings ~~on the sidewalk, by a cafe where I hope to be working soon~~, obviously. Studio Katchoo: buy my art so I pay for my pillow."

Katchoo snorted and snuggled a little more into said pillow. "I can't decide if that's too crazy, or crazy enough to work."

"You better believe it'll work. Plus if any of them don't get bought, I'll buy them."

"Right. With the money from the World Clarinet Tour."

"Nah. With cookies."

Katchoo waved a hand at the plate of hypothetical baked not-quite-legal tender by the bed. "You think you can buy me off with cookies, Francine Peters?"

"...Am I supposed to pretend I can't, here?"

"Of course you can, dork." Hypothetical or . . . probably not, too.

"Of course we could probably save a lot of effort by me just giving it to you for free." The pillow-ness, that is.

"Mmm." Katchoo reached over to tweak at battered-Snoopy's ear. "If not, I'd owe you a lot of back-pay, wouldn't I?"

~~The Jawa says hi.~~

"I think there's probably a -- whaddyacallit? Statue of limitations."

~~THE JAWA LOVES YOU.~~

"Big words," Katchoo mumbled. "Tired brain."

"I love you so it's free. Small words."

Katchoo turned her head to give Francine the best tired smile she could manage. It wasn't much of one, but it was something.

"Love you too, Francie."

Small words were good. Small words were Friends.

Awkward had two syllables and thus didn't qualify as small, so Francine pretended it wasn't there when she bent her head down to press a kiss to the corner of that smile, because it felt right.

That smile got a little broader against Francine's lips, in that case, and Katchoo reached out to wrap an arm around her. Just because the awkward wasn't on her part didn't mean she didn't know it was there.

"I'll be here, you know," Francine said slowly, leaning the side of her face against Katchoo's. "If you want to sleep, or just... I'm not going anyplace."

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thismaskiwear.livejournal.com - 2009-10-29 04:50 (UTC) - Expand

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