[ Mostly to live in a quieter head, although she grew used to that after her teenage years. Sliding her fingers through his hair, the motion of combing them through is as much for her as it is for him, like petting a big, warm cat. Hmm, slingshotting. ]
Mostly, I wanted to read fairy tales, but suspension of belief isn't my thing. [ A pause, and she adds, ] That's why I've heard voices since I was imPorted in as a telepath.
Okay, I've got a question for you. How long does the effect last? When someone lies to you. The whole-- [fingerwiggle] telepathy thing. Minutes? Few seconds?
Not long, usually. I've been bouncing off the lies of lots of people in a room to keep it up, but it's mostly relative to how serious or malicious the lie is.
[ Jim. What are you thinking. ]
If I was standing next to a murderer who denied the crime, I think I'd get a hell of a mental kick out of it.
[ So suspicious. Trusting him as she does (not as much as some but a significant amount all the same), she arches a brow at his phone-fiddling. ]
... Maybe. I wouldn't know how to get into their thoughts without a boost first, though. I can send out a communique but it's not perfect, like trying to hold hands underwater.
[He finds what he's looking for - a short, two-page fairy-tale, something about a princess playing with a golden ball - and holds his phone up to waggle it at her so she knows it too.]
Let's try.
[Let's see.]
'I'm a terrible kisser'.
[It's such a lie it should be illegal. And in the back of his mind he's reciting the words on the phone.]
[ A glance at the story rates it as false information, fiction that she knows she'll grow irritated by. The gesture of him trying to circumvent the problem is more touching than she can immediately explain, ducking her forehead to his shoulder, fingers curling in the cotton at his waist as I'm a terrible kisser takes her into his mind where the story is awaiting. ]
It's not ... It won't work, Jim. You're saying one lie and there's another waiting in your head because the story isn't real. [ Lifting her head, she looks incredibly grateful that an attempt was made on her behalf, however. ] It doesn't stop being someone else's lie just because you're reading it out.
[Nope he is going to figure this out watch him!! Jim Kirk and unwinnable scenarios, ladies and gentlemen. He is going to have to give this some thought.
Well, this puzzle says thank you and A for effort.
[ Even if she's getting sleepy now, tucking herself into his side. The massage helped a lot in getting her to relaxed, a long day of work behind her doing nothing to make her appreciate the evening ahead tomorrow. ]
[But he combs his fingers through her hair, kisses her forehead, and doesn't try to move her from where his arm is totally asleep beneath her shoulder.]
[ Around eight o'clock she wakes up quietly, conscious of a furnace nearby that usually isn't a fixture of her bed. Bleary-eyed, she huffs and peeks above the covers to see if he's awake. ]
[ Stretching out lazily, she stays where she is for a few minutes (with her mouth partially stuck to his sleeve, oops) before making any attempt at getting up. It's a mild surprise to find herself half-naked when she does, but she simply stuffs the duvet back around Jim and pecks him on the forehead. ]
You're just full of unreasonable demands, aren't you?
[ Smiling at him as she ties the bathrobe around herself at last, she listens outside her door for movement and glances back with a finger to her lips. You shouldn't be here, shhh. Distractedly, she wonders if they have any juice. ]
[He playfully 'zips his lips' and flops back on the bed. Not enough pillows. Not anywhere near enough pillows. But he punches at them until they're some semblance of fluffed up and then props himself against them to wait for her illustrious return. Until he rolls over onto the lotion bottle, a casualty to the early morning massage. With a sigh, he heaves himself out of bed and goes to put it back where he found it the night before.
-- And while he's there he may as well steal another piece of chocolate-coated apple.]
[ Thankfully, she only sees people in passing and doesn't have to explain why there are six pieces of vaguely burned toast piled up on a plate, along with orange juice (the last, he should be honored) and a black coffee on the same tray. She never said she was a cook, okay. At the very least, the food is hot when she angles herself back into the bedroom, very much looking like she needs to drag a brush through her hair. ]
Hey, here. Everyone will be gone in ten minutes, you can take the shower first if you want.
[ Perched on the bed, she noms the blackest bit of toast. ]
[He almost makes a quip about showering together, but-- given their chat, probably not a good idea. Instead he shakes his head.]
I'm good, I swear. I think I can make it back to my own place without offending the neighbors. I'll do that dodge-roll thing. [Gesturing with the toast,] Won't even see me.
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You better hope there were no diplomats on board. That gets messy. Paperwork for days.
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Nope, just me. Joyriding in space, skidding around a moon or two ...
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[Not, you know, officially, but. He strokes her hair absently.]
Did you want to be an astronaut when you grew up or something?
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[ Mostly to live in a quieter head, although she grew used to that after her teenage years. Sliding her fingers through his hair, the motion of combing them through is as much for her as it is for him, like petting a big, warm cat. Hmm, slingshotting. ]
Mostly, I wanted to read fairy tales, but suspension of belief isn't my thing. [ A pause, and she adds, ] That's why I've heard voices since I was imPorted in as a telepath.
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Okay, I've got a question for you. How long does the effect last? When someone lies to you. The whole-- [fingerwiggle] telepathy thing. Minutes? Few seconds?
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[ Jim. What are you thinking. ]
If I was standing next to a murderer who denied the crime, I think I'd get a hell of a mental kick out of it.
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Can you tell if somebody's lying in their head?
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... Maybe. I wouldn't know how to get into their thoughts without a boost first, though. I can send out a communique but it's not perfect, like trying to hold hands underwater.
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Let's try.
[Let's see.]
'I'm a terrible kisser'.
[It's such a lie it should be illegal. And in the back of his mind he's reciting the words on the phone.]
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[ A glance at the story rates it as false information, fiction that she knows she'll grow irritated by. The gesture of him trying to circumvent the problem is more touching than she can immediately explain, ducking her forehead to his shoulder, fingers curling in the cotton at his waist as I'm a terrible kisser takes her into his mind where the story is awaiting. ]
It's not ... It won't work, Jim. You're saying one lie and there's another waiting in your head because the story isn't real. [ Lifting her head, she looks incredibly grateful that an attempt was made on her behalf, however. ] It doesn't stop being someone else's lie just because you're reading it out.
But, thank you.
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But he does relent, for now, and laughs.]
Worth a try, right?
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[ Tweaking his hair, she laughs and slumps at his side, using his arm as a pillow. ]
You're a real fixer.
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[ Even if she's getting sleepy now, tucking herself into his side. The massage helped a lot in getting her to relaxed, a long day of work behind her doing nothing to make her appreciate the evening ahead tomorrow. ]
Stick around for breakfast, if you want.
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[But he combs his fingers through her hair, kisses her forehead, and doesn't try to move her from where his arm is totally asleep beneath her shoulder.]
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You get toast.
[ Until then she'll limpet around him until morning, falling asleep rapidly whenever she stops trying to focus on talking. ]
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[Sleep. Sleep is good. So maybe he'll spend the next few hours staring at the ceiling but that's okay. Life's good.]
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Morning, sunshine.
[Mrflfrle??]
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[ Stretching out lazily, she stays where she is for a few minutes (with her mouth partially stuck to his sleeve, oops) before making any attempt at getting up. It's a mild surprise to find herself half-naked when she does, but she simply stuffs the duvet back around Jim and pecks him on the forehead. ]
Tea or coffee?
[ Meanwhile, the search for her vest is ended. ]
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[He is definitely going to give her an appreciative look in that search for her vest, though.]
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[ Smiling at him as she ties the bathrobe around herself at last, she listens outside her door for movement and glances back with a finger to her lips. You shouldn't be here, shhh. Distractedly, she wonders if they have any juice. ]
I'll be back in a bit. Stay put.
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-- And while he's there he may as well steal another piece of chocolate-coated apple.]
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Hey, here. Everyone will be gone in ten minutes, you can take the shower first if you want.
[ Perched on the bed, she noms the blackest bit of toast. ]
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I'm good, I swear. I think I can make it back to my own place without offending the neighbors. I'll do that dodge-roll thing. [Gesturing with the toast,] Won't even see me.
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