![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Do you want to move somewhere more comfortable?
No, but I'd love it if you had some red leather gloves.
[But that sounds like it involves getting up.]
Maybe next time.
[Maybe after he's got her to sit through the film that imprinted garages and car jacks, red leather gloves and perhaps even a haircut on him.]
Maybe next time.
[Maybe after he's got her to sit through the film that imprinted garages and car jacks, red leather gloves and perhaps even a haircut on him.]
Sentimental value.
[It's probably a more accurate description than calling it a kink.]
You still need to catch up on some pop culture.
[It's probably a more accurate description than calling it a kink.]
You still need to catch up on some pop culture.
Films. [He doesn't get much time for television, either. Films are easier - self contained and pauseable.
He settles where he is, shifting his weight so it's not on her.]
Date night, sometime?
He settles where he is, shifting his weight so it's not on her.]
Date night, sometime?
I think I can manage a date.
[She can sit still two hours.]
[She can sit still two hours.]
I'll pick up the basics on my way home next week. Rental place for the movie, store for chips and [Uh] pureed liver.
[She kisses him, then, open mouthed, and pulls back]
I'll prepare my own snack, don't worry.
I'll prepare my own snack, don't worry.
I don't mind. [He clarifies, chasing her mouth but not quite catching it, leaning in so that the fall of his hair gets in both their eyes.] I never mind.
Why not?
[As usual, it's a genuine question, presented with Saya's typical forthrightness.]
[As usual, it's a genuine question, presented with Saya's typical forthrightness.]
It's what you need. How could I find that offensive? [Sometimes, he thinks the answers should just be obvious.] I'd be an idiot if the only way I could deal with it was by pretending you don't eat at all.
Besides, I'm not squeamish. I'd rather eat yours than make you eat mine.
Besides, I'm not squeamish. I'd rather eat yours than make you eat mine.
I don't know. Humans are strange about offense. They find things offensive when they shouldn't be.
[And that's why the answers aren't obvious]
[And that's why the answers aren't obvious]
We're not talking about your feelings about apartheid. It's biology. The people who are offended by that are the people who give cutesy names to their genitals. Not worth listening to.
Call a cock a cock?
[She nods her head]
Then you can be in charge of snacks.
[She nods her head]
Then you can be in charge of snacks.
[He's fixing his tie in his office, fingers tugging the knot up tight and neat; his suit is so clearly tailored expertly, making him look both fashionable and fit.
It's hunting day.
He reaches for his scarf when he hears the door open and looks up.]
It's hunting day.
He reaches for his scarf when he hears the door open and looks up.]
[Chase knocks a second before turning the handle. No familiarity has yet overridden manners and broken him of the habit - and after today it's unlikely that it will. But he does open it without permission - with a smile and a sprig of something green-leaved, white-berried caught between middle and ring finger.
The smile is the first thing he drops, like a light flicking off.]
Sorry, my mistake.
[His jaw is infinitely tighter when he turns to go. Though, he catches himself before he does.
Saya's not there with him (which must make it good timing of some sort, it's better to walk in on someone fastening his tie than someone taking it off), but it's a curious level of trust. So he looks back, a half turn over his shoulder.]
Is there anything I can help you with?
The smile is the first thing he drops, like a light flicking off.]
Sorry, my mistake.
[His jaw is infinitely tighter when he turns to go. Though, he catches himself before he does.
Saya's not there with him (which must make it good timing of some sort, it's better to walk in on someone fastening his tie than someone taking it off), but it's a curious level of trust. So he looks back, a half turn over his shoulder.]
Is there anything I can help you with?
[He looks at Chase for a moment, parceling together a plan, and puts his scarf on in the meantime.]
No, I had just finished my paperwork.
[His accent is muddled, but there's something faint there, something vaguely Italian, vaguely Australian, vaguely South African. It's not Saya's accent, that's certain.]
Robert Chase, right?
No, I had just finished my paperwork.
[His accent is muddled, but there's something faint there, something vaguely Italian, vaguely Australian, vaguely South African. It's not Saya's accent, that's certain.]
Robert Chase, right?
[Hopefully the stranger won't object as he glances around, checking for disturbed surface areas.
Or it could have been one of the cars.
Then he stops looking and tries listening instead.]
I don't think we've met. Paperwork?
Or it could have been one of the cars.
Then he stops looking and tries listening instead.]
I don't think we've met. Paperwork?
[He moves forward, offers a hand.]
Thomas Seth. I'm Saya's accountant.
Thomas Seth. I'm Saya's accountant.
Page 48 of 91