paradisalogs | [Closed] Video games, go!

She moved slowly, smiling up at him with her arms still around him, steering him casually to the spring as she distracted him with wet Kenzi and smiles.

"Oh, you mean besides the sex slave one?"

It was too bad that evasion techniques were no match for diversionary measures.

Mmmhmm. "Yes. Besides that one." He was good, not rising to the bait.

"I don't know, Kitt. That's why I was going to talk to him. I think he needs help working in the magic store." A few more steps back, her front pressed up against him and getting him damp in the three places her bikini touched him.

His face would freeze in a permanent expression of skepticism if he kept it up. "Magic store? Like stage magic?"

The conversation was helpful. It kept his focus elsewhere, and not on her bikini.

"Nope, Fred told me it was like, real hocus pocus stuff.Kind of like what Trick had in his den." A few more steps. Her hands had slipped his journal out of his pocket, and she dropped it carefully on the ground by her clothes, her arms still around his waist, face still turned up toward him.

"I see." He should have known. He couldn't say anything, though all his logic was screaming denial at him. If he was here, anything was possible, whether he liked to admit it or not.

It was a slow dance, perfect in its choreography, keeping him off-guard and unaware. Shameful for an AI, but given the circumstances, perhaps understandable for a human.

"Good. Did you see this coming?" With another step, his legs touched the edge of the spring, and she gave him a push with a gleeful grin.

He frowned, his look of surprise obliterated in the next instant by sudden realization right before he hit the water with a yelp.

And there was more laughing as she watched that look on his face, carving that into her memory forever.

Twice in one day. What was she doing, keeping tabs? Making notes, biding her time, waiting for the perfect opportunity at his expense?

He came up spluttering and choking, soaked completely through, his clothes clinging to him and his hair plastered to his forehead.

Leaning over the edge of the spring, she poked his nose as she grinned. "Told you you shoulda brought something to swim in."

He was just standing there, arms held out from his sides as the water ran off him in streams that eventually slowed to trickles. He was feeling... he wasn't sure what he was feeling. Disgusted amusement? It was too close to call. And there she was, laughing at him like the cat who caught the canary.

"You might want to get your clothes off and wring them out to let them dry, Kitt-Katt." She blew a kiss to him, then held out her hands for his clothes.

Shock might have won out. "Why would you do that? I'm not dressed for soaking!" Completely ignoring the fact that now he was, indeed, dressed for soaking. He shook his arms like a giant, wet chicken squawking at the fox in the henhouse. He wasn't going to get dry like this. He'd have to either climb out to undress, which was out of the question, or use the cover of the bubbly springwater to do undress, which, sadly, was the lesser of the two evils.

Throwing her a look of disgust, he began to strip, doing his best to keep his dignity intact.

Still chuckling, she took his clothes as he passed them over, wringing them out and laying them out in the sun to dry. "It's called 'having fun' Kitt-Katt. I'm funnin' ya. See? It's hilarious."

No. He really wasn't 'seeing' it. He didn't like surprises. Surprises got people hurt.

... This one hadn't. His pride had been wounded, but given time it would recover. He guessed it might have been a little bit amusing. Not 'hilarious', as she claimed, but amusing. He wasn't quite ready to smile at her, but a self-deprecating smirk, letting her know he was in on the joke, wasn't beyond his ability as he handed over the last of his clothing.

With everything wrung out and spread out to dry, she moved to step back into the spring, pushing him back over as she did. She purposefully ignored the firm flesh she touched, since they had to live together, dude.

They totally had to live together, dudette. So now that they were both nearly naked together in the hot springs, Kitt was just going to. Chill. Be Zen. Close his eyes, enjoy the water (because it really was quite magnificent), and pretend that he was alone.

She swam lazily along the pool, watching him as he took it better than she'd thought. Moving beside him, she peeked down and might have admired the view a bit, brushing up against him. "See? You like it. You know it."

The way he figured it, things could have gone one of two ways. He could have either gotten blood-boilingly angry, which would have momentarily satisfying but would have long-lasting consequences, or he could have done exactly what he did - allow himself to be annoyed, angry even, but with the understanding that her intentions, while dubious, weren't malicious.

And the water felt good. Warm, soothing, relaxing the tension out of the sore muscles of his back and shoulders. If he was going to be Kenzi's personal masseuse for the next two weeks, he'd need those muscles at their peak. So he closed his eyes, stretched his legs out, and pretended that he wasn't watching her in her very flattering camo bikini.

"I could become used to it." A lazy concession, but it would do.

Moving up behind him, she wrapped her arm around his chest and let herself drift along under him. "Then maybe we should do this more often. You know, it'd be kinda bitchin' out here in the winter if it snows here. Set up some candles, bring some wine and tunes."

She let out a small, happy sigh, then drifted off away from him again.

He had to laugh at that. What she was suggesting almost sounded like a date. If Michael were here, they would be sharing a joke over this woman's strange ideas. It did sound appealing, though...

"I'm yours to command for the next two weeks. Winter might mean another bet." He turned his head enough to look at her, but not enough to remove her arm.

"Candles. Wine for you if I pick the music." He watched her go, bemused.

Not so much a date as just enjoying themselves. She drank and chilled at home with Bo and the gang when she pleased, and it was just how she unwound.

"Mm, say that again. I like the sound of that." She was smiling as she floated, watching the sun dip lower in the sky as she did.

"What kind of music would you pick?"

In that case, he wouldn't mind, though they could do that anytime now that they shared a room. Except for the drinking part.

"What? That I am yours to command? Within reason of course, Kenzi." He frowned, as though the choice should be obvious. "Classical. Some Mozart, perhaps. Tchaikovsky's 'Swan Lake'. Others, as they occur to me. I requested a notebook to keep track of things."

"Mmm, mine to command. Sounds so pretty." She floated over to him, nose wrinkling at the music selections.

"Where'd you get the notebook? And what are you keeping track of?"

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