grease. - closed.

[Benjin Preistley]

"Do go on Hadley I'm hungover," he felt crude, like there were crickets making short work of the back of his throat and the smoke was only making it that much worse. Her shining perfect hair was making him all that much more aware of the mustard stain on his tie and the wrinkles in his shirt. "I mean, I could think of a use for you but unless you're willing to slather yourself in sausage gravy..." which was his hangover cure, and he would very much adore having no bags under his eyes. She was like black, crisp coffee as the sun rose. Today, today he didn't have the energy to pretend that he was anything other than the passing breeze of the evening sky. “Sausage gravy?” “Aye,” the word drawled out like just the vibrations in his throat was too much for the rest of him. His eyes scrunching closed even further as she laughed – oh she was cruel. A cruel, heartless wench with no care for his head whatsoever. Not that she knew that he had spent the last night gambling away the last three month's worth of salary, and then drank too much to remember if he had won any of it back or not. Not that he was going to be hurting about it – other than his throbbing skull. “That sounds like quite an adventure. How much gravy are you talking here?” Oh, normally he would have just jumped right on a comment like that. "Buckets. I'm not really certain where I am supposed to be getting buckets of sausage gravy in the middle of the day as such but I'm sure you'll figure it out. You've always been particularly motivated," his hand lifting to pinch the bridge of his nose in agitation. Normally the idea of dipping freshly made from scratch biscuits off of her gravy covered flesh would have been particularly interesting. Something he could have rambled on about in some great detail, would have relished making her uncomfortable with it...but his throbbing headache and empty stomach was making things that much more difficult...and she was just so damned chipper.

Oh. Humming. She ought not to be humming. “Buckets may be hard to come by.” She was baiting him. Didn't care for it. “Anything else, in particular, you’d like slathered on me? Or is that the only option?” She knew that there was a great many things that he wanted to do to her in any given moment – he had explained such, in detail many times. "No, it has to be gravy, and it needs to be sausage. Extra pepper." His head rolled to the side, taking in her figure slowly, selectively and nodded "And I'd need ten biscuits. Buttermilk. Home pressed...it's the only way." he nodded, letting go of his grip on his nose. "Though I could say mustard and you would have the little cogs in that pretty head turning all the same, couldn't I?" Quite proud of that one – given his mental state. You would like it verra much if I was actually being demanding darling," he could have guaranteed her that. he wasn't sure if he actually wanted her to leave, or if he just wanted her to find a way to turn the sun off for a few hours so he could sleep better. That would make everything better. He leaned forward at the same time she did. no matter his condition, he had come too far to turn her down so rudely, despite how ghastly he felt. "I couldn't eat nearly as much mustard," She was leaning so close to him that he could breathe her in – oh if only her perfume wasn't making her head spin so much. “Noted.” Semi-disbelieving breath leaving him. Eyes shut, that was simpler. “We both know that you would.” The talking was so tiresome, every syllable that his lips formed only furthering the pounding in his head, His heavy, purple rimmed eyes watched the change in her expression, her eyes darting to his lips the moment that he pulled his bottom one between his white teeth. “Dash the biscuits darling, I rather the use of my tongue,” his tongue moving over the lip pulled between his teeth, just needed to make sure he noticed her gaze dropping. He might not been on top of his game, but he was still better than most.

“How lovely sounding.” His grin spread slowly across his face, widening until he knew he had her complete attention, before his hand came to slap the surface of his thigh a little loudly, it jarred him, too loud, his headache was worse than before and he couldn't help himself. She needed to snap out of it or he was going to just get...very carried away with himself. “Aspirin, I call for Aspirin. Black coffee...” he could have clapped her thigh, but that would have only been furthering his point and he wanted her frustrated. Her frustrated, made him feel better – horrible as that might be. “Aspirin I have. Always keep it on my person.” Merciful angels in heaven. “Oh sweet darling, you have just what I need,” he'd averted his gaze from her chest as she stooped. Felt like cheating. Whenever he did finally allow himself to undress her, it was going to be with purpose and she was going to long for every inch of it, all of her skin to be exposed and he would drag it out. Just like he did everything else. Though the Aspirin, that was very much appreciated, making as much of a show of placing the white tab on his tongue, “You're going to make me repeat myself, aren’t you? S'not very nice of you...given my state” It was always a small thrill. The way that she always seemed to want to touch him, but never really let herself. There had only been a handful of times whenever she had slipped, placed a hand on his shoulder, straightened his tie a little too slowly and every time he called her on it. Small reminders. He didn't touch the coffee when she returned, not at first at least, watched her straighten her skirt, smoothing it under her legs as she sat, fixating herself with her coffee as soon as she was seated, such a smug look on her face...was that smug? He wasn't even certain. “Looking for some praise are we?” Maybe if he hadn't had to ask twice. Maybe if he wasn't waiting for the aspirin to kick in despite having to swallow the pill dry. Either way. “Yes yes, good job Hadley.” but he was smiling all the same, amusement twinkling behind his eyes despite the throbbing. She didn't even know she was cheering him up. Even with how poorly yesterday had gone. Even with...well, even. She was cheering him up. He waited until she had taken her first drink before reaching toward the cup, index finger running over the porcelain handle, but he wasn't looking at the cup. In one sudden move, he leaned forward, torso almost meeting the table as he grabbed the cup, sampling the blend. “Well, it does hit the spot dear,”

[Hadley Carpenter]

“Do go on Hadley I’m hungover.” Yes, she could see that. Usually so immaculate, it was almost comforting to see him looking less than his spectacular self. Especially considering he’s seen her looking just as worse for wear on more than one occasion whether it had been at a dig site or equally hungover. “I mean, I could think of a use for you but unless you’re willing to slather yourself in sausage gravy…” “Sausage gravy?” Confusion flashed across her face for a moment. “Aye.” Just when she thought she understood whatever game he was playing, he went and said something like that. She gave a short laugh, rather quiet laugh. “That sounds like quite an adventure. How much gravy are you talking here?” She watched as he pinched the bridge of his nose, features wrinkling in discomfort. Poor little puppy. “Buckets. I’m not really certain where I am supposed to be getting buckets of sausage gravy in the middle of the day as such but I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You’ve always been particularly motivated.” She hummed in thought for a moment. “Buckets may be hard to come by.” Though she was sure that, if pressed, she could call in a favour with a chef in the area. She had so many favours owed to her. It would take much more than that to get her to admit to her particular motivations today. “Anything else, in particular, you’d like slathered on me? Or is that the only option?” She had, technically, already showered and had no intention of getting messy, but. She thought briefly on being slathered in anything for him and her tongue ran along her bottom lip without thought. She took a slow breath in through her nose and re-crossed her legs. She cursed her overly active imagination in regards to him as she looked back to him. Internally shaking her head, there was no possibility he missed that. “No, it has to be gravy, and it needs to be sausage. Extra pepper. And I’d need ten biscuits. Buttermilk. Home pressed…it’s the only way.” She sighed dramatically. “You’re being very demanding for one so hungover.” She held purposefully still under his examination. “Though I could say mustard and you would have the little cogs in that pretty head turning all the same, couldn’t I?” She could practically feel his eyes sliding over her skin, much like fire. “And what if I could secure these things, dear?” She leaned forward ever so slightly and tilted her head. She pursed her lips at the thought of mustard. That had such a pungent smell to it. “Mustard doesn’t sound anywhere near as fun.”

“You would like it very much if I was actually being demanding darling.” She quirked an eyebrow. “Would I? What an intriguing thought.” She refused to move back a single centimetre as he leaned forward. Any closer and they would have been nose to nose. “I couldn’t eat nearly as much mustard.” Her gaze fell down to his lips as he spoke before jumping back to meet his. She was sure that her pupils were beginning to dilate. “Noted.” This game they played, she both loved it and hated it in equal measures. Loved it because he was so intoxicating; hated it because she so rarely came out of one of their encounters on top, but that just made her want to play so much more. “Dash the biscuits darling, I rather the use of my tongue.” She clenched her jaw for a moment to stop herself from squirming in front of him. Subtly clenching her thighs together at the thoughts running rampant through her mind. Her eyes dropped again to follow the path of said tongue along his lip. Her own tongue slid between her lips to mirror the path of his. Damn him, he was winning. “How lovely sounding.” She hated how breathy that response sounded, even to her. She would not look away, however, would not. She concentrated for a second on keeping her breathing even. He wouldn’t have her panting in anticipation already. She nearly growled in frustration when she couldn’t think of anything to say immediately. At the sound of his palm hitting his thigh, she tore her eyes from his face to look at the source of the noise. “Aspirin, I call for aspirin. Black coffee…” She blinked a few times collecting herself quickly. She swallowed once, and cleared her throat. “Aspirin I have. Always keep it on my person.” She leaned forward to reach into the purse she had set on the ground when she arrived, inadvertently giving him the perfect view straight down her top. She was too flustered at the moment to have done it purposefully. “Oh sweet darling you have just what I need.” She rolled her eyes as she fished around for a second, trying to remember which pocket she kept the bottle. Having found it, she sat back up and placed it in front of him. After another moment looking at the table, she felt as though she could look back up to his face.

She looked back up to him, and they just looked at each other for a moment. “You’re going to make me repeat myself, aren’t you? S’not very nice of you…given my state.” Her lips thinned for a moment as she stood. “Of course not.” She walked around him, her fingertips just shy of brushing the skin on the back of his hand that still rested on his thigh. Once she was through the doors of the small coffee shop she allowed herself to take a much needed deep breath. She snorted, “His state? What about my state?” She ordered two coffees, both black. This would give her something to do with her hands while he drove her mad. Smiling prettily at the woman behind the counter in thanks she took them outside. Placing both cups on the table before sitting down again. She look at him as if to say there. “Looking for some praise are we?” Well of course not, she didn’t go around looking for his praise. That would be ridiculous. “Yes yes, good job Hadley.” She gave him a mock pout at his words. It didn’t hold for long though, it was hard not to return his smile with a small one of her own. It had been quite clear that his mood was rather sour to begin with, and now he seemed to be getting back to his usual self. Which could mean that she was in for some real trouble soon. She lifted the cup to her lips and sipped lightly, she absolutely hated burning her mouth. She set her hands back on the table, cradling the bottom of the cup in her palms. She was rather fond of the feeling of a warm cup in her hands. He reached across the table and ran his finger down the handle. Her fingers loosened from the bottom of the cup, opening her hands, palm up, further. Actual touching between the two of them was such a rarity, her movement was to avoid further temptation. She almost jumped backwards at his sudden forward movement. She felt the cup lift from her hands and tilt in his direction as he sipped from her coffee. “Well, it does hit the spot dear.” Her lips were parted slightly before she murmured, “It does, doesn’t it.”

[Benjin Preistley]

“Oh, darling don't pout. It's gives my...imagination cause to stir,” he winked, couldn't help himself. Those little pills truly were divine inventions. She should have learned not to set himself up for things like that. Whenever the door was left just wide open, he had to walk through. His hand lingering before sliding back to his own, pulling it closer to his person but not lowering his torso back to the slumped abomination of posture that it had been before. Watching. “Tell me Hadley, which spot were you just picturing me hitting?” his voice dropped, smile slowly fading from his face. He had always admired her imagination. Part of what had drawn her to him in the first place. “Here.” Oh, she was so bold in his weakened state. Taking advantage, was what she was doing. “And here.” Bolder, than she had leave to be. Really, he hadn't been expecting her to answer. He had been thinking that she would have twisted her seat, recrossed her legs or fiddled with the hem of her skirt and yet, her hand was running down the column of her neck and he just couldn't help but follow the path that it made with his eyes. Pausing, back of her hand twisted, fingers curled so lightly, his eyes dropped as best they could as her hand lowered, the top of the table was blocking his view. Well. If anything was going to chase away his headache as fast as possible, it was going to be her, touching herself. Anywhere. Those hands, on that body. He had to shut his own imagination down, and quickly. Ah the coffee, she wanted to be touching something he knew would be just as sweet, but every bit as hot to the touch, he was sure of it. He was willing to bet he wouldn't even have to let his hand to the apex of her thighs to feel just how much she was thinking about it. His hand left the table, fingers curling over the lower half of his face and dragging over his mouth. Oh she wouldn't be sitting still if he were doing either of those things. Certainly not the latter. He blinked slowly, his blue eyes otherwise locked on one of an equal clarity. “And tell me, in these flights of delicious fancy, am I using my hands,” his tongue ran over his lip, fingers dropping from his face finally and lowering silently back to the table, index finger tapping twice on the surface. “These hands?” his head lolling to the side, knowing full well she wasn't. “Sometimes.” Oh? Such a dirty little minded vixen – at least her version of dirty. Oh, how delighted he was going to be to enlighten her. “Other times you use your mouth.” If only she knew, that his mouth was so much more tame than his hands. The corner of his lip twitched upward at her answer. Of course he would, that wasn't even a question. “Oh my,” his index finger traced small circles onto the table top. Thankful, that she couldn't see the bouncing of his leg just under the table, his knee starting to jiggle. He'd all but forgotten about his own coffee. “You must have been a very good girl then,” his lips parting just slightly as he finished speaking, “to deserve such nice treatment,” His hand moved to the coffee mug just to have something to do with his hand. He could picture that easily, having her sitting next to him instead of across from him, his hand on her knee. Didn't matter the place, she didn't know, had no cause to know just how insatiable he could be. Didn't even need much encouragement. “Do you think these things often lass?”

He could see her smile dip, even if only for a moment. It was so rare that she just gave over to that...that particular smile of hers, he could feel his grip tighten around the mug. “Oh, I'm not condemning. I'm happy to feed into whichever salacious desire that you have darl-” he paused mid sentence at her words, the offset to her jaw as her eyes flit back to his own and for just a moment she had rendered him speechless. He was a man who spoke a lot, in any situation, around any sort of person, but that was a line he hadn't brought her over before and he wasn't even sure if she was aware there was a line at all. “Oh I do like that,” his voice deep, level as it was serious and his leg couldn't stop jiggling under the table. Good thing he didn't carry change in his pockets. His hips moved to wriggle backward into the chair, allowing him to lean forward better. Force his leg to stop moving as he leaned on the table fully. “You know it's quite rude...you haven't even asked me what sorts of things I like to think about...” lip curled wickedly, “Do you want to know how I would treat a good girl?” “Please, sir?” Benjin was fully aware of the fact that he needed to pull himself together. Quickly. If she were to catch wise as to how her little word choice was effecting him, she would have a card to play and that just wouldn't suit. Not even slightly. She was to have no cards, that was what made this whole game so very easy. No cards and all of the cards at the same time. So little she knew. He knew her imagination was going wild because his was as well. Knowing he could have her, right here, any way that he wanted because he had worked for it. Had earned the right and yet he couldn't Couldn't spoil it because it wasn't time, and he was hungover. No way was their first time going to be the product of some half hungover slump. Benjin's tongue ran over his lips for just a moment. “Come closer, and I shall whisper in your ear,” He couldn't have stood at this point. Only half because of the hangover, half for other reasons. Impressive how she near glided over to her chair next to him, her ankles crossing delicately and shifting to the side of her person, she was graceful, even though he knew she was far from composed. How she did it, he had no idea. He often had the fleeting notion that she was magic, and not in the way that they were all magic, but her own, special sort of magic. Knowing that he had any hold on her, no matter how slight...he couldn't fathom it. Still his hand lifted, brushing her hair back over her shoulders without touching her, shifting sideways in his chair, placing his face an inch from the side of her face. “Not today, my dear Hadley,” he grinned, his breath hot against her skin, “I enjoy you wanton too much,” and he was hungover. Hangovers were apparently impeding on his creativity...or maybe it was that perfume, “Is that a new scent?”

”Not even a taste?” Not even a taste. Now it was his turn to drop his eyes down to her lips, even if only for a second. To entertain the idea in his head. As if he could do it....he could. She wouldn't even fight him on it, and he knew it. Even though he knew she could be putty in his hands, it didn't lessen the thrill of it, which was nice. He had been expecting it to lessen, even slightly, over the many years. It hadn't. “I’m not wearing any perfume. I forgot to put it on this morning.” And no perfume to boot? Was this her soap or just her? A low grumble of approval built in the back of his throat as he lifted his coffee to his person once again, eyes washing over her once more. That Aspirin was starting to kick in, “anything else you forgot to put on this morning?” He did love watching her squirm in such a way. So endearing at the same time as it was alluring. What he wouldn't have paid, in this moment in order to know specifically, in such explicit terms, just what she was thinking. He had been rather cruel to her this morning, allowing his temper to get out of hand as it had...he couldn't have that. He made a mental note to be better, to do better. “Could be.” Yes. And that was quite a visual. A favorite of his – and soon, perhaps, it would be less of such an imagined thing. “Generally, though, one has to give a little to get a little.” his lips peeling back into a grin as he watched her steal from his tea. “Och, Aye.” a little more husky than he would have preferred. His fingers lifted to tap against his temple. “You test me in my moments of weakness...what sort of woman you are.” twisted to heavily in his brogue. Pulling his napkin from his leg where it had been resting and putting it back onto the table.

“The best sort, dear.” Benjin's eyes held her gaze for a touch longer than was decent. Near holding her captive, he wanted, unable to let go of those bright blue eyes, when he spoke, it was a most softer kind, almost serious. “Aye lass,” a soft twinkle in his eyes as he confirmed what she had just said. “That ye are,” She had been speaking ironically, he was sure. Even more certain that she had only been flippant and coy in her womanly fashion. Attempting to get the upper than that she was never allowed to have. “Feeling any better?” He looked over to her and the glass in her hand, “My head?” feeling softer than he had before – but none the less playful, a very Scottish sound catching in the back of his throat as he couldn't quite bring himself to shake as an answer “Well, no.” a slightly more wry smile as he lowered his gaze to the table “Banging like doldrums, which, incidentally, might back me feel better,” a wink as he lifted his space. “if only I didn't have work, might be more personable. Havena made ye nearly uncomfortable enough,”

[Hadley Carpenter]

“Oh, darling don’t pout. It gives my…imagination cause to stir.” She greatly enjoyed the direction his mood was turning now. He had even winked at her; now she was probably blushing like a school-girl, how embarrassing. Only he could get that kind of reaction from her. “Tell me Hadley, which spot were you just picturing me hitting?” As the pitch in his voice dropped, she leaned forward very slightly and licked her lips again. The timber in his voice shot straight through her body, pooling deliciously. He could have asked her anything and she would have been helpless to refuse him. She raised her hand to tug at her earring lightly, a habit she had when her mind was wandering through as many scenarios as it could in a short span of time. Her mind jumped quickly between feeling his lips at her neck, to a flash of the top of his head between her thighs. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and bit down just enough to stifle the moan that wanted to work its way out of her throat. She closed her eyes for a second and shook her head, to try and rid herself of the images that danced in her mind. Her hand slid down her neck, stopping at her pulse point. She opened her eyes and looked directly into his, “Here.” Her hand slid further down her body. It didn’t matter that they were sitting in a semi-public place. What mattered was answering his demand. “And here.” Her hand trailed lightly up the inside of her thigh, before she brought it back to cradle the coffee mug again. She lifted her coffee and brought it up to her mouth. Drinking a little more deeply now that it had cooled some. The warmth in her mouth that moved down her throat was a small comfort for a moment. His hand lifted from the table and her eyes followed it to where it rested on his face. “And tell me, in these flights of delicious fancy, am I using my hands? These hands?” She would like to think that she was affecting him in some way, needed to think that. “Sometimes.” She ran her tongue along her lips, her mouth going dry as a breath shuddered out of her. She could swear that she already knew what it felt like to have his scruff to scratch lightly at the inside of her thighs. She looked down for a moment, but it was no use trying to collect herself at this point. She was too far gone to come back now. She looked back into the eyes that cut right through her everytime she met them. Her face grew warm as he coaxed more words from her. She leaned forward again very slightly, and lowered her own voice. “Other times you use your mouth.” Her eyes dropped to his lips and lingered there for a few seconds. Her breathing increased slightly as she looked back up to eyes again.

Her eyes moved again to the movement of his hand on the table top before returning to his face. She felt hyper aware of every move he made. “Oh my. You must have been a very good girl then to deserve such a nice treatment.” Her smile slid into a smirk. The one that looked as though she held all the secrets of the world behind her lips. She nodded slowly, “I’d like to think so.” At his next question, her lust induced confidence faltered slightly. She glanced down to fiddle with the mug in her hands a bit. Of course she thought of things like that often, but perhaps far more often than she should. Every time she was in his presence, though that was mostly his own doing. He always pushed her buttons just right to rile her up. After a particularly long or frustrating day, just to help unwind and relax. “Do you think these things often lass?” She had quite the appetite for those matters, not something a lady is usually proud of. She peeked up at him through her lashes. “Oh, I’m not condemning. I’m happy to feed into whichever salacious desire that you have darl-” “Yes, sir.” She wasn’t quite sure why she had tacked that specific endearment on. Usually she called him dear, but that was during more of a playfully affectionate tone and it didn’t quite fit with the conversation they were having. She was quite surprised at his sudden stop while he was speaking. She could count on one hand the number of times that she had seen him left without words. “Oh I do that that.” Her eyes almost rolled back in her head at his acknowledgement of her words. She was sure that the tension was palpable even from a few tables away, but she didn’t care. At this point, he could pull her from her seat and lay her on the table to do whatever he wanted and she would let him as long as he kept talking like that. “You know it’s quite rude…you haven’t even asked me what sorts of things I like to think about. Do you want to know how I would treat a good girl?” She blinked slowly once, twice. She had never thought to ask specifically. He had no qualms in sending her dirty notes, or whispering delicious scenarios into her ear. Filled her mind with images that could drive a lesser person mad with want. “Yes…” she breathed out, barely more than a whisper. Her heart beat hammered in her chest, as she decided to push herself a tiny bit farther down this proverbial rabbit hole. “Please, sir?”

“Come closer, and I shall whisper in your ear.” She resisted the urge to jump to her feet and leap across the table. He was going to win, he always won this little game, but that didn’t mean she was just going to make it obvious, she had a little more decorum than that at this point. She hesitated to agree, the fairly strict limited-touching rule became even more difficult to follow the closer she was to him. But, she needed to know now. She nodded and stood to move over to the seat that was next to him. She hesitated once she was fully standing, double checking that she was steady enough to walk. She moved to the seat and sat rather gracefully considering she was just about melting. She clenched her jaw, she had been right. The temptation to touch him was almost too great to ignore while she was this close. She folded her hands on the table in front of her, interlocking her fingers to keep from doing something foolish like placing her hand on his thigh. She tilted her head as he moved her hair back over her shoulder. “Not today, my dear Hadley. I enjoy you wanton too much.” She shivered as his breath ghosted against her skin, warm and lovely. Merlin, she wanted to climb right in his lap. His words, however, were somewhat similar to ice water. So close. Always so close, but never reaching it. She pouted, she had risked falling over for no reason. Had tempted herself for no reason. “Not even a taste?” She gave him a pleading look, but she didn’t think that that was going to get her anywhere. He was always able to resist her, so easily it seemed. It was truly unfair. “Is that a new scent?” She looked at him, confused, for a moment. “I’m not wearing any perfume. I forgot to put it on this morning.” She saw his eyes drop, unconsciously she licked her lips again. She hoped he was thinking about it, she more than hoped that perhaps just this once she would end up getting her way. Just once, something to add to the thoughts that she tortured herself with. Though, if she were to be honest with herself like she usually was. Once would never be enough. Unless it was terrible, but somehow she knew it wouldn’t be. She watched him raise his coffee to his lips. Her eyes moved to his throat, watching the movements as he swallowed. “Anything else you forgot to put on this morning?” Dragging her eyes from him, she glanced towards her own coffee that had been left across the table. She smirked at him. “Could be.” She quirked an eyebrow for a moment. “Generally, though, one has to give a little to get a little.” Looking back to him, she lifted the porcelain cup from his hands to return the act of his stolen sip.

“Och, aye. You test me in my moments of weakness...what sort of woman you are.” His voice should have to be registered as a dangerous weapon. The things it did to her person as it slipped further into his natural accent, it just wasn’t fair. Her smirk widened, she was the sort of woman who had had his influence in her life for a long enough time that she was fairly certain she had forgotten how to blush. “The best sort, dear.” The sort of woman who would definitely take advantage during a moment of weakness and he knew that very well. She was still holding his mug, intended to keep holding it until he took it back, maybe their hands would touch in some way during the exchange. She almost groaned at how desperate she sounded to herself, just for a brush of skin on skin. She saw him lay the napkin back on the table, from where it had been on his lap and wondered if that meant if he was getting ready to be off. “Feeling any better?” “Aye lass, that ye are.” She inhaled through her nose slowly as she turned her face to look at him more directly. All trace of coyness or flippancy evaporating from her features. That had been far more disarming than any manner of filthy, debauched statement he could have possibly made. She blinked once, looking at him, waiting for the punchline, but when it didn’t come she looked down towards her hands briefly, a smile working its way across her mouth without her knowledge. “My head? Well, no.” Well what else would she have been referring to? “Banging like doldrums, which, incidentally might make me feel better, if only I didn’t have work, might be more personable. Havena made ye nearly uncomfortable enough.” She pursed her lips against the smile still sitting on them, and looked up at him again. And that felt familiar. “What a shame. I suppose you’ll just have to make up for it the next time we spend time together.” She knew that that was a rather dangerous thing to say, but she rather enjoyed danger apparently.

[Benjin Preistley]

He did so love catching her off guard, but this time he hadn't even meant to. Was nearly caught off guard himself by the slight slip in his affections. Did like the flush to her cheeks, quickly, he pushed a smile over his features. Attempting to cover, or masque despite not needing to. Wasn't attempting to pretend he felt any differently than he did, but his head, made the timing all manner of wrong. Although, with her acting the way that she was, was diverting from the hangover quite effectively. Was so much better than just the medicine she had given him already. Better than the tea. Could imagine actually, that he was better than a great number of things. Would. Find out in time. “What a shame. I suppose you’ll just have to make up for it the next time we spend time together.” His eyes diverted to the table, his smile widening despite how the crinkle blurred his vision some. His index finger pushing into the table, - he did have work to attend to, and willing to give her this point. More or less. “You'll get this?” he gestured to the empty cup and plate on the table – managing a wider smile as he stood. Had no need to make her pay for it – was just being shitty about it. That little disgruntled look flicking over her features for not getting what she wanted when she had wanted it. Let his napkin fall to the table, leaning over the space and cupping her by the back of the neck, tamping her stunning hair underneath his palm. Quickly Benjin, do not get too carried away. Bending to press his lips to her forehead in gratitude, lingering just a minute too long before releasing her, passing over her gaze. Couldn't linger too long on that either – wouldn't benefit either of them. Had already been showing a good amount of cards in this that he didn't need to be. Couldn't help himself. Had caught him, in his moments of weakness. Hungover weakness. Had work to attend to. Needed to just, attend to it. Benjin's stride lengthening as he moved out of the space.

[Hadley Carpenter]

She watched his smile widen, returning it fondly as she looked at the way it made his eyes crinkle at the edges. “You’ll get this? Nothing inflammatory to say in return this time?  If didn't know any better she'd say that was a point for her.  She hummed in the affirmative as she looked to the table, following where he was gesturing, not a problem really.  Time that she now needed to collect herself until then.  She was probably going to sit here for a little while longer anyway, since she had some time before she had to meet with a potential buyer. She looked back towards him as he stood from the table. She was surprised to see him leaning closer to her, over the space between their two chairs.  Had it been anyone else she would have been leaning backwards over the back of her seat away from them. What was he doing? His hand cupped the back of her neck, tilting her head up towards him. She froze in her seat as he leant towards her and pressed his lips to the skin of her forehead. Blank. Her mind went completely blank, emptied of thought for a few moments. It was like she had forgotten how to function for a moment.  That was different.  She blinked in shock, and as soon as she was capable of a full rational thought he was already walking away. Her eyes narrowed at his back as her hand raised to her forehead briefly grazing where his lips had lingered for longer than just a moment. Scottish bastard.