Emma's New York / Abandoned Lower Level Under the 42nd Street Station / Manhattan / Sunday Evening

[icecoldfrost]

"Aren't you done yet?" Emma's head poked out of a manhole drop, upside down as she looked at Hank. "Hank, I've been here three days, and you've had it for a week."

"I am a geneticist, Miss Frost, not an engineer." Hank pushed his safety goggles up onto his hair and frowned at her. "Where did you get this, young lady?"

"From someone at school," she answered evasively, tossing her pack to the floor and quickly jumping down after it. "Hey, I picked up some Spagetti-Os and a box of Twinkies. Your favorites."

"And how many poor saps did you con at pool to get my groceries?" he asked, picking up the arm or the armor and waggling it at her accusingly. "Shame on you, Emma."

"I don't need to hustle anyone to pay for our food anymore, Hank, with or without my powers," Emma retorted, already putting the groceries away. "With the investments I've made in the past two years, I've already got enough stashed away to pay for my first two years of college, if I'm careful."

"...but parting a bunch of fools from their money is a public service - and entertaining - and I could use the extra cash for rent once I graduate from Fandom," she admitted, sitting down in her chair to carefully count out the change. "Or at least enough money to rent a PO box, so I have a legitimate mailing address."

"You could, actually, get a job," Hank suggest dryly, pulling down his goggles and going back to work on the suit. "It would be a legitimate source of income, and I hear they help build character."

Emma made a face. "Quite a few people would tell you that I have more than enough character," she complained, but finished putting away Hank's food supplies for the next two weeks before wandering over and pulling up a stool. "So. Have you figured out enough yet to tell me how this works?"

[OOC: Establishy, NFB, phone or text OK.]

Comments

[bitten_notshy]

Dress lifts over head/lips part so that tongues will dance/bodies show the way

Jack squirmed in his seat. Suddenly, he'd gone from wanting Sebastien and Mitchell home now to very much hoping they took their time.

[icecoldfrost]

Emma wasn't exactly anywhere she could do something about this right now, but all of these were being saved for later. She'd write them out nicely longhand into her diary, so that she wouldn't lose them.

So tempting to touch/Her hands bracing for support/The neck arches back.

[bitten_notshy]

Dammit. She'd skipped ahead. This was killing him, especially since he was never exactly alone in this house.

Jack sucked in his breath as he wrote the next bit.

He hovers above/Waiting makes for more wanting/But it's so painful

[icecoldfrost]

Temperatures rise/Hands warm strong soft comforting/Silk sheets nice and warm.

Overly sweet? Maybe. But being in bed with Jack had always made Emma feel safe and cherished, and it was only fair she share that.

[bitten_notshy]

Jack sucked in a breath he couldn't let out this time. That was sweet and exciting and(don't think it) loving and it made him ache for the fact he was sitting in a room that wasn't his, typing dirty words on a phone. It was an exquisite, prolonged torture -- but not having it would be worse yet.

His response took a long moment.

Almost cruel to type/When I want breath, hair, hands, lips./Miles stretch too far.

[icecoldfrost]

That was. Emma stared at her phone for a moment before shutting it, taking a deep breath, and reopening it again.

Next time I promise/Champagne with fresh orange juice/Breakfast in your bed. It was an easy promise to make, because Emma did miss just sprawling out with him, chatting or doing homework. Friends apart, yes, but best friends apart. She missed the easy camaraderie too.

Laughter under sheets/your kisses tickle my legs/you do it to spite!

[bitten_notshy]

Champagne. Orange juice. Breakfast in bed and kisses that tickled, ordinary happiness with a woman who was his best friend, and why was he chasing a dead man around again?

Jack shook his head to clear it. Emma still had school, and Sebastien -- well, Sebastien had Jack's absolute devotion, and always would. Doggedly, tiny key by tiny key, he typed:

Either to spite you or make you laugh, Miss Frost. Perhaps both at once.

Haikus had become a dangerous game.

[icecoldfrost]

To be fair, they usually played the most dangerous games with each other.

But that was a clever haiku, even if he hadn't phrased it as a poem. Spite and mischief, sir, she typed back. You like being spoiled rotten whenever I'm there.

[bitten_notshy]

Neither one of them would have known the first thing about how to manage a relationship that didn't have every chance of exploding messily at every turn.

You like the chance to spoil me, so it all works out. I just have to work harder to spoil you back.

[icecoldfrost]

I'm not adverse to that, but now you owe me two haikus, Emma pointed out. So, spoil me.

[bitten_notshy]

Jack should have known she wouldn't be distracted from haiku quite this easily. He thumbed back through the last few messages to see where they'd left off.

Lazy, sated laughs/curls rest on white bosom/never leaving bed he sent. Then, a moment later: But hands will wander/and lips will crash together/another round, dear?

[icecoldfrost]

Lazily tangled/Hiding under the blankets/falling into sighs, she managed after a moment. This was starting to make her melancholy, dammit, but she wouldn't stop for the world.

[bitten_notshy]

No reason to sigh/Time stretches like pulled taffy/Blankets gird the world

It was making Jack a little melancholy, too. But he liked the image.

[icecoldfrost]

Seduce me with words/, Emma challenged, biting her lip impishly as she tapped at her keys. No beautiful, pouting eyes/to tease me to smiles.

[bitten_notshy]

Jack laughed a bit at the complement, though he couldn't quite get his response to be an entirely classic haiku.

Epistolary/romance is traditional/Will do for now?

[icecoldfrost]

Irresistible challenge/born from dangerous boredom/will you win this game? Although in Emma's private opinion, they were both already winners for managing to keep the haiku going for so long.

[bitten_notshy]

Jack's grin was tight as he tapped out an answer. 7-7-5 was not 5-7-5, was it? Or was he saying a word wrong?

Recount syllables/I may have won already/But triumph to both

[icecoldfrost]

I push for free verse/Seem to recall you saying/rules are for breaking! Shush, Jack, Emma was doing really well!

[bitten_notshy]

If I have said that/I didn't mean in haiku/But I shall allow, Jack typed out smugly.

Then, by way of getting them back on track:

Would you pay me back in kisses?