milliways_bar | (no subject)

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*Meg wanders downstairs and into the bar, coffee mug in hand and tutu around her waist. And everyone subsequently dies of shock.*

"Not to me."

Sip of coffee.

You think you get special treatment? *Meg says, with a grin.*

"If I've more sense than the others, I ought to."

A small smirk.

*Meg looks innocent.* Who says you do? Just because you're a better swimmer than some -

"When've I tried to rescue you when you didn't need it?"

*Meg bites on her lip and thinks back.*

Well.

You've given me some Dire Warnings I didn't necessarily need -

"That's not rescuing."

No, *Meg admits.* But to be actually rescued you sort of need to be in danger. Otherwise it's just being stupidly carried off.

"That's not dire warnings. And I don't believe I've ever done such."

That you have not. *Meg grins.* But very few people have, really. In most cases because I warn them beforehand.

"So why don't I get special treatment?"

Eyes glittering.

"I didn't have to be told."

It would give you, *Meg says, very primly,* a swelled head.

*Heaven forbid.*

Roland just looks at her.

*Meg grins at him.* It does you good not to be treated like Big Chief High Gunslinger Knows All from time to time.

*Meg is truly convinced of this.*

Roland says calmly, "Long days and pleasant nights, Meg." And stands.

Not smirking.

G'night, Roland, *Meg says cheerfully.

A good bout of pesting has clearly done her good.*