milliways_bar | (no subject)

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"Billy Liar's got his hands in his pockets
Staring over at the neighbor's, knickers down.
He's got his knickers down."

Sings the happy-go-lucky Head Bar-ex-turtle.
He's behind Bar with a HUGE stack of papers in front of him.
There are crayons.

Fear.

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"baby, your booty is so ickle and wee."

He's trying to keep his voice down, for fear of blowing out her wee beady ear drums.

"hey yourself."

Mel giggles, a tiny and wee sound, and leans on his cheek, pulling at at eyelash.

"That's what you said last week."

"Recycling lines is better for the environment."

He attempts to blink against her eyelash tug.

"Can I help you with something?"

"Nah," she says, letting go and slideing down to stradlle his shoulder, leaning against his neck. "I'm good."

"Yeah?"

It's not that he doesn't believe her, he just wants to make extra special sure.

"Yeah."

Her head's against his neck now, hands flat against the sinews of his throat. She's... well, she's fine. There's nothing she can do about this right now, not really hurting. Slightly annoyed, but certainly not worried. He's here. She loves him. It's all good.

"Hey, You wanna see if we can get a saddle for Stampy?"

He chuckles as he tries to turn his head enough to see her but not knock her over.

"Think I might be the wrong person to be asking that of..."

She's kind of under his jawline right now, which might make it difficult, but she does lean back to look up.

"Oh, go on. Can Bar do one?"

He levels his gaze on Bar.

"Don't see why not....you really think Stampy'd go for something like that?"

"She likes me."

Yeah, that's all she's got. But wouldn't it be fun?

"You're not suggesting that she doesn't like me, are you?"

"No!" she protests. Would she dare suggest something like that?

"Have you ever been six inches tall and tried to ride her?"

"Is this one of those trick questions that as a human male I should know about?"

Mel grins knowingly.

"You know I'm not supposed to tell you about those questions."

She's learned them from TV, anyway.

"Awww man!"

His shoulders slump in the face of such a well reasoned defeat.

Mel smiles, and stands up again, planting a very small kiss on the side of his jaw.

"Victory is mine this time."

"It's true. But I'll get you next time Gadget, next time!"

Tiny kisses are more concentrated kisses.

"Do you promise to be careful with her, and put pillows down on the very likely chance that she's going to throw you?"

She eyes him.

For a long time.

"I'll be careful."

Pillows? Is he crazy? Is Haddyn composed of pillows?

Oh but if only it was. An entire post-apocolyptic world composed entirely of pillows.

Think of it!
The soft cuddly warmth of futuristic oppression.

"It's all I ask."

Sure she can bench press a dumptruck, but he worries about her just the same. Actually, his amount worry seems to be directly inverse of her actual size.

Hey, there was no apocalypse, thank you!

...OK, actually there were a few, but all diverted!

Mel sits down on his shoulder again, far enough away so he can turn and see her.

"You ask so much of me."

"That must be such an unbearable burden."

"It really is."

She shakes her head sadly.

"Clearly the only thing that'll make this better is eating your weight in brownies."

Trust him, he knows about this sort of thing.

"Can I have twice my weight?"

It's a metabolism-size thing. You'd understand if you were tiny.

...or liked to do ratios for fun.

"With or without nuts?"