milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

And lo, an alien came down the stairs, grabbing a tray and preparing to bring good tidings of great food to the patrons of the bar.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Maybe."

He's being coy.

"Oh is that so?" She smiles at him, pressing a kiss to his lips. "You gonna tell me why?"

"Could happen..."

She laughs, amused by his behaviour. It was adorable. She kisses him again. "But will it happen?"

He snickers.

"I, uh, made a friend. Indiana Jones. We're, like, buds. It's cool."

"He's a cool guy. I'm very happy for you. Being friends with childhood heros is cool." She kisses him again. "I love you." Yes, she has to say it, because that's how she is.

"Yes you do," Warren coos, because that's how he is: awkward. At least that's what the shooting script for I Was Made To Love You said.

"Yes I do. A lot. And you love me almost as much." Her eyes twinkle.

"Yeah-huh," he teases. "And the next time I go on vacation I'll get you a T-shirt to prove it."

Warren is referencing those T-shirts available to tourists which declare: "Somebody who loves me very much went to 'blank', and all they got me was this lousy T-shirt."

"Uh uh." She kisses him again. "But I'll let you pretend." She moves back and smiles mischeviously. Then places her finger on his head, seeming to be writing something with her finger. Of course, this is Isabel and she actually can write with her finger. His forehead now reads:

Property of Isabel Evans

"Heh. That tickles."

He's entirely unaware.

"Sorry."

She giggles, kissing him, but then just bursts out laughing.

He frowns.

"Uh...what's so funny?"

She smiles innocently, and then asks the bar for a mirror. She hands it to him, taking a few steps back.

Still confused, he glances into the mirror.

...

"Isabel!"

Her hand covers her mouth, trying to supress her laughter. "I'm sorry! Come here I'll fix it."

"Yes...you...will!" He sputters.

She wipes her thumb across his forehead, getting rid of the writing and then kisses him deeply. "You're not mad at me."

It wasn't a question, just a statement. He couldn't be mad, could he?

"Uh, no."

But she should be the one with the writing on her forehead, shouldn't she?

"I just...people would laugh."

"I'm sorry. It just seemed like a funny thing to do."

She kisses him yet again, because she likes kissing her boyfriend and well, she now feels like she's done something wrong. The fingers of one hand rub his neck. She knows how to melt her boyfriend's heart. No programming needed.

I dunno...he seems to have programmed her pretty well in the do-as-Warren-says department...

"Yeah, I guess it was funny," he admits, grudgingly.

"It was. You know it was."

She kisses the same neck being rubbed and smiles at him again. "I'm too beautiful for you to be grouchy at."

And yes, but...there was no software...

"...This is true."

He cracks a smile.

Boobies are like software...I mean, ...the human brain is like software...

She kisses the tip of his nose. "See. So no more not smiling. Go back to your good mood."

He nods, solemnly.

"Yes'm."