thatsamilkshake | Room 505: Tuesday -- no, make that Wednesday

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Room 505: Tuesday -- no, make that Wednesday - after Radio

You know, four hours after radio? Long enough for the CD to replay three times before she turned it off, the candles to burn down, the chicken to get cold, the phone to be picked up and then put down about five times because it was supposed to be a surprise, and the girl to fall asleep on top of the covers with the back of her dress still unfastened.

Look, this is the CREAM PUFF version of this scene, people. In canon she never showed because she spent the night in bed with their best friend.

Look, this is the CREAM PUFF version of this scene, people. In canon she never showed because she spent the night in bed with their best friend.

As you do.

[OOC: For the roomie. BFF. Person. Other girl. SP? Ahahahaha.]

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. . . oh, Molly Lane. Not that Katchoo actually knew about any of this, but congratulations, Francine, you were right about your brother's ex. She really was weird.

"Francie?" Katchoo peered around to look at the back of her head. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

She opened her eyes. "No, it's okay." It sort of wasn't and sort of was, but none of that could be blamed on Katchoo. "It's not your fault. I'm just kind of off 'cause I was having a weird dream when you came in."

Totally the wrong time for this, but Katchoo reached to take hold of the zipper pull on Francine's dress and zip it up. "And falling asleep in this, waiting up for me."

"It's surprisingly comfy." Though Katchoo's hand made the skin on her back shiver for more reasons than one. "Your hands are cold, though." Francine reached for them when Katchoo had let go of her zipper.

"Funny thing about being stuck in a cave for a few hours in the middle of the night, that." Looking at their hands was fascinating, and if it wasn't past 3 AM Katchoo could have spun off an entire mental soliloquy about the visual contrasts and the symbolism and something metaphorical about warmth and coming in from the cold, and managed to quote a bit of their damn high school play again on top of it all.

Her brain just wasn't in the mood to cooperate with a flight of fancy like that, though, and she ran her thumb over Francine's knuckles.

"I can warm up the chicken..." She made no move to do so, though, or to dis-entwine her fingers from Katchoo's.

"Kinda lost my appetite hours ago." Katchoo wasn't any more inclined to make that kind of move; on the other hand, scooting closer was looking like a thing that was happening.

Francine kinda had too, but some of that might be attributable to the frosted snowman cookies she'd been nibbling her way through while she waited. At least after the first hour. "It'll still be good tomorrow," Francine said, pulling one hand free, but only to wrap around Katchoo's waist. "Or later today, I guess."

"But not the same. Unless there's more candles. Think I should bother trying to get a nap before work?" Katchoo asked -- yep, definite scooting closer. Tiredly, smothering a yawn, but definite scooting. "Or just say screw it and sleep . . ."

"I can find more candles." Screwing her courage up again to do -- or at least say -- something she'd not remotely figured out, that might be something else, though.

What if she said it now? It was too late and they were both too tired to do anything, but...

"You..." Yeah? Something came next, right? Something that would push that stupid dream out of her head by making sure it never had the chance to be more than than that. "Should sleep. They can do without you for a day." Coward.

Edited 2009-12-23 22:36 (UTC)

Katchoo was beginning to get better at reading Francine's verbal ellipses. Just a little better but it was a step up, at least?

And saying this now was different from saying it those couple of insane weekends ago, so a smile sneaked slowly onto her face as she nudged Francine. "There enough room for both of us in there, then?"

It was different, but different enough? That, Francine couldn't tell yet, so it was the smile on Katchoo's face that coaxed one from Francine, not the words. "Oh, I think so. If we squeeze."

"That's such a hardship," Katchoo noted lightly, and when she leaned in to touch her forehead to Francine's it might complicate the execution of her next suggestion, namely, "We oughta get you out of that dress, though."

Only the slightest pause before she continued, "And into your PJs. You look amazing, but it'd be a shame to mess that up."

That was just mean, Chewie. Mean. Mostly the pause, which was just long enough for Francine to wonder where the hell her heartbeat went, oh there it was, what was it doing in her larynx, before there were PJs and organs sliding back down where the biology books said they were supposed to be.

"...Right! Pajamas. Right." And that would be Francine de-tangling, to get up and fetch them.

Leaving Katchoo to look a bit like a forlorn puppy (never a kitten. GAH) at the de-tangling, but getting up to get into her own -- oh, who are we kidding. Tossing her jacket onto her own bed and kicking off her pants.

At least that wasn't new, right?

The sprawling out on Francine's bed afterward, though, that part was relatively new.

Totally a kitten, Katchoo. This kitten.

Francine did not go for kicking off her pants, what with the not wearing any. Nor, though, did she go for the feety pajamas with bunny ears. Instead she pulled out something kind of in between, self-consciously doing the I-can-change-inside-my-dress-really dance.

Oh, nuh-uh, Francie. Not that kitten or any other kind.

Would it help with the self-conscious changing dance if Katchoo had let her eyes drift shut? Which, granted, would make her reaction to the shirt more fun in a few seconds.

"Getting cold here, Francine," she wheedled. Blankets on the bed? WHAT BLANKETS? Shh.

It might help a lot, yes. "I'm coming, I'm coming," said Francine, hanging up her dress and padding back to the bed -- without tripping over a table like some people who shall remain nameless but still look like a kitten.

Do not do not do not DO NOT. ~~Mreeeeeeeow!~~

Oh, there was the eye-opening and the shirt-noticing and the . . . at-chuckling.

"Did you think I wouldn't?"

"Wouldn't what?" Maybe. Or maybe she'd just bought them at Dite's because they were cute, and not as her attempt at a subtle hint.

She would, wouldn't she?

By way of an answer, Katchoo scooted over and held a hand out. "Get over here, will ya?"

She might, but she didn't. They were totally a subtle hint.

...They were totally Francine's idea of a subtle hint.

"I am over here," Francine answered. And of course by the time she'd said it, she was.

So right after she'd said it, Katchoo was leaning in to, you know, take her up on her shirt's suggestion. "Hi there."

Katchoo could take a Francine-style subtle hint.

SOMETIMES FRANCINE HAD HER DOUBTS.

Not, however, at the moment. At the moment, she had her butt planted on the edge of her bed and her lips planted on Katchoo's.

SOMETIMES SHE HAD A RIGHT TO, BUT WE WERE TALKING ABOUT AT THE MOMENT.

The moment where there were arms going up to wrap around Francine's shoulders, to go with the lips.

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