Participants:
| Scene Title | Need A Bigger Bed |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | A day in the life after the two decide to combined their households… Luther even gets a peek at Kaylee's extra baggage. |
| Date | March 17, 2018 |
Resistance Camp
Most of the camp is silent in the middle of the night, except for a few guards that patrol and keep the rest safe. In the darkness of Luther’s canvas tent, Kaylee’s eyes flutter open as one of these patrol move within distance of her ability. The additional humming mental voices helps to bring the telepath fully awake and aware of the time. It was like an inconsistent alarm clock; and, by the occasional bird song, it seems they were moving through later than normal.
That or she was getting use to them. Still time was ticking and she was sure, if she looked the sky would be lightening to the east.
Without any effort, she can feel the lazy hum of Luther’s mind next to her. As far as she could tell, he was still asleep. So she might still have time to slip out and back to her tent, before everyone wakes up. It was almost routine by now. She slips out to her own tent, they meet for breakfast later, and go about their day.
This time was no different.
Turning a little to look back at the sleeping form, Kaylee watches the slow rise and fall of the sheets until she’s satisfied that he is still asleep. Only then does she slowly peel the blankets away from her bare form and makes a reach for her clothes left strewn about in their hurry to get down to business. Fingers reach to snag at the fabric and drag it closer. Only then does she start to get up, as quietly as possible.
Most nights she’s found Luther to be a light sleeper, if there was much sleep to be had to begin with. The calm of his sleeping mind notably differs from the intensity of it when awake, though that could be said of everybody else. For Luther, his carries the unique awareness of shifts of energy around him. Sometimes, he doesn’t even realize it. Like at present, when the sweep of chillier air interrupts the invisible pocket of warmth that escapes when she moves to reach for her clothes.
The ‘Beast’ of the Resistance stirs. Her fingers snatch up her shirt. His fingers reach out and snag the bit of the sheets still covering her and then drags it in close, the telepath caught in it like a fish in netting. Luther’s breath exhales in a thick sigh against her bareness as he starts to slowly wake.
There is a sharp intake of breath as Kaylee feels herself being pulled close. Instinct has her pulling her shirt to her exposed upper torso. A silly reflex since he has seen everything of her that is to be seen, still she holds it there, propped up on her elbow. She stares down at the arm pinning her there, as she tries to think how to slip out of it.
The easy answer would be to ‘make’ him, but that was no way to start a relationship and not something she really wanted to do. So with a resigned sigh, Kaylee flops back down next to him, hand still holding that damn shirt across her chest. She’ll have to wait till he either wakes or settles again.
Kaylee didn’t want to leave him or the warm bed, anyhow. It was cold in her place, even with sheets. However, it feels odd to still be there when he wakes. Shifting her head so she can look over at him over her shoulder; the act causing her to lean into his own feverish body.
Feeling that he is definitely waking, Kaylee murmurs a soft, “Morning.” When he opens his eyes, he’ll find her blue eyes not too far from his and blonde hair a bit of mess, strands of it falling across her face.
Luther is stubborn even when waking, in that his mind is reluctant to let go of the comfort it somehow senses with the contact made. Wakefulness is inevitable, though, and resistance of it futile. His face twitches, eventually eyes cracking open to find the blue eyes of the telepath and hair draping around her face. Grey eyes blink, then open more fully as he realizes who he’s staring at, and not at the back of the oiled canvas of his tent.
“Mm… is it?” Luther’s rumble accompanies a short tug of her covering sheet over, thoroughly ensnaring her as he takes in a longer, more awake breath. “You’re not usually here come morning.” It’s not a judgment, but a mere observation of the hitch in the routine. One that he comes to realize, with a faint curl of the corners of his mouth, that he doesn’t mind.
There is a bit of a shy smile as Kaylee is pulled in even closer, turning away so that her back can fit snugly against him. “I tried, but I was caught as I was trying to sneak away.” No reason to hide the truth, her attempts to keep an emotional distance and he’s never complained. The shirt she had snared is looked at, momentarily debating what to do with it. “I can still leave if you want some privacy.”
Though by the way Kaylee trails fingers down his trapping arm and curls fingers with his, the telepath may suspect he will want her to stay. Like him, she might be okay with that; tossing aside the shirt she had retrieved and tucking that arm under her head.
Giving a bit of a wiggle to snuggle down into the sheets more, Kaylee gives a satisfied sigh and says, “So much warmer here anyhow.”
The scruff of Luther’s beard scrapes lightly across the skin of her neck as he tucks his head there in the curve of her neck and shoulder, lips brushing against her. A short exhale into the tangle of her hair feels more like a soft snort of dismissal of the notion that she’d be told to leave. His arm muscles twitch under her touch, and as their fingers intertwine he shifts himself up against her. The elevated cot creaks slightly under the weight. Through the press of her body against his, the bits of sheet between them grows warmer as he seems to, briefly, start to slip away into more physical urges.
But then he pauses and for a long moment, Luther is quiet. His stillness of body is not a return to sleep. She can feel his mind turning, conflicting and tensing with an twinge of fear-based reluctance for the answer as he works up to the next question.
“Do you want to stay here? You don’t have to. If you don’t want to.”
It’s spoken with a rare uncertainty to the tone of his voice. The tentative reach out comes with a loosening of his grip around her, so that she can move. Should she wish to go, the gesture implies. But, he doesn’t retract his arm entirely, and his leg remains with foot hooked around hers in the sheets, as if that may be the convincing argument needed to win her over.
The scrape of his scruff and the warmth of his lips against her skin, causes goosebumps to raise. Her body reacting physically to him pressing closer and the rumble of his voice near her ear. Kaylee isn't sure her heart could beat much harder.
However, it cools a little at his question, like water on a fire. Then it’s Kaylee’s turn to go quiet, teeth worry at her bottom lip as she tries to sift through the chaos of her mind. Every fiber of her being wants to say ’yes,’ but…. “I'm scared to say yes,” she softly admits with obvious reluctance. However, it isn't a rejection. When his arm loosens, hers tightens as if clinging to him and not wanting him to let go.
There is a debate going on in her head of what to say, how much of herself does she lay before him. “It’s been a long time since I allowed myself to get this close.” While she stares at the canvas across from her, Kaylee’s eyes are unfocused and her mind turned inward, listening carefully.
“If I stay, I'm not going to want to leave,” Kaylee voice holds a hint of the fear at that. The pain of possibly being hurt again. “I’ve never wanted to leave…” She breathes out into a soft sigh, pulling his arm a little tighter around her.
Finally, Kaylee asks her own question, her own insecurities bleeding through, “You sure you want a scarred and broken woman? One not even from here?” Her heads shifts a bit to look back, “I could be out there, somewhere.” There is some guilt at the idea that she could be taking him away from the one in this world or anyone more deserving.
Her hesitation also cools the initial reaction, the heat going from strong burn to a lower simmer. Receiving mixed signals between her admittance of being scared and her clinging on to him, Luther remains quiet, trying not to ruin the moment by spooking her with a reaction. Or himself. It's a strange sensation, the churn of a deep fear of vulnerability mixed with that of immediate desires.
It's too much, really. His answer comes with a faint growl of frustration for the complicated texture of the discomfort. He gnaws on it mentally, smoothing it with a physical turn to action as she shifts a sidelong look back, as she asks that question of whether he wants her. Luther pulls his hand that's intertwined with hers back to him, slipping his fingers around hers and cupping the digits instead. There, he can see the linear scar in her palm, the one he remembers staring at the cut from the rebar, one night on a supply run gone wrong.
He brings that palm up, pressing the scar to his lips and tracing along the line then down the length of her arm back to her neck, then pausing as he reaches her face. As if to show that the attention paid to the physical scars on her isn't because they bother him, Luther tilts his head and touches his forehead to the spot on the side of her face, the scar she tries to hide with her hair that's now a tangle from sleep.
The heat of his breath escapes, though held back with restraint as he sees the guilt lingering. "You're here now," his reply comes in time. "And I want you to stay with me." Luther lifts his head, and grey eyes search for her blues.
There is open curiosity as to what Luther’s intentions are when he takes her hand. Brows tick upward and fingers twitch when his lips press into her scarred palm. It causes something to stir deep within her. Heating the look in her eyes as she watches him move up her arm, breath catching and heart skipping a beat. It takes everything in her not to squirm when his searching lips reach her neck, a small sound escaping her.
When his forehead touches against her scarred temple, eyes close and she swallows heavily. Kaylee has always been self conscious about that scar.
When the weight of his forehead lifts, her head turns back to look at him again; he can see the heat in the blue gaze of the telepath. It is a little awkward, but Kaylee manages to shift to where she can rest on her back, this way she can look at him fully; but, also so that she can brush fingers against the rough stubble of his jaw and rest her hand against his heated skin.
“I would love to stay with you,” Kaylee says in a rough whisper. Her head comes up off the pillow so that she can kiss him softly, lingering for a moment, savoring the feel of his lips. When the kiss breaks and her head drop back to the cot, there is a hint of tears in her eyes. “And I don't give a damn about what anyone says.” Her thumb brushes again his lips. “Or thinks about it.”
Everything about Luther’s gaze focuses on her as he leans his jaw against her fingers. The stare hoods over and then closes when she answers him, when she lifts her lips to his. He slides a hand up around the back of her neck, and with reluctance does he break the kiss long enough to breathe and long enough for her to speak.
But what she says penetrates his heated desiring look and sends a sting down his back. “Who’s saying what?” he asks, angled brows furrowing and his jaw setting into a frown. On one hand it could be taken as offense. On the other, Luther sounds annoyed by the seeming intrusion of public opinion into a private affair.
It does make him pause in whatever he was going to do. Instead, Luther pushes himself up to a sit, pulling the sheet away from him to leave behind on the cot for her. “If anybody gives you shit,” he says with a turn of his head, a look back over his bare back and shoulders where she can see his scars from battles past. He doesn’t finish the statement, leaving implied conclusions of possible violence to stay that way. Implied, and possible.
As soon as she says it, Kaylee regrets those words. Surprised to find that she hit a nerve, the telepath doesn't move as he sits up, nor does she try to stop him from doing it. Instead hands drop to the sheets, toying a little with the edge that drapes across her stomach.
“People talk, Luther,” Kaylee states it like a simple fact. It is the nature of humans after all.
Pushing herself to sit up as well, sheets pooling around her waist. Curiosity pulls her attention to the scars. “We are not exactly a normal couple.” Fingers move to trace along a particularly prominent scar, before lightly trailing along his spine watching the way muscles move under skin. “I honestly don't think anyone will give me shit, at least not to our faces,” she sounds a touch amused at the idea.
Shifting a little closer she rests her forehead against his shoulder. Kaylee sits quietly for a moment, before she finally says with amusement, “We’re going to need to find a bigger bed for our tent here.”
“They should mind their own damn business,” Luther’s reply comes without the simmer of anger aimed towards her. His eyes stray towards the tent flap, but her fingers that trail along his shoulder - one that looks like it was scratched by some kind of animal (or sharp clawed robot) - turns his attention back to her. A brow raises. “Yeah? Well define ‘normal’,” he rumbles, and shifts his shoulder slightly so she can rest against the broader portion of it.
Even as he requests such a definition, though, he acknowledges the truth of her statement. They really aren’t normal. She’s from a whole other dimension, after all. “But if they do,” insists the man, again leaving implications to hang unfinished and inactive, for now.
Then her humored mention of their need for a bigger bed turns his attention, and the rest of him. Luther twists his upper half, turning so that he can reach with a hand to cup her face and leans in for a short kiss. “We can look around on the next run,” he says with an air of promise. Then, his own expression turns crooked and he adds, “What’s the matter, this one too close for comfort?” It’s a tease of course, given that they’ve shared it several times now.
“If they do,” Kaylee repeats softly, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, “then you can put them in their place.” Though chances are, she will have already put them in their place. “Or we can.” Cause they have already proven they are quite the team.
‘We’ was such a weird word. She’s been rolling it around in her head. It is something they have been, but it had a new meaning now and so felt new.
There is a low chuckle from the woman at the tease, once lips part reluctantly. “Don't get me wrong, lover.” Her own hand captures his against her face, leaning into the warmth with eyes closed and a soft ‘mmm’. In the cold of the night, it was a plus to have someone like him. “It's nice right now, but during the summer…” The words trail off, cause she knows she doesn’t need to say them.
Silence falls on the tent, as she listens to the hum of his mind. A part of her reaches for it, listening to the tone and texture of it, she’ll always know him in a crowd. Kaylee was especially surprised to find it a comfort, like being wrapped up in a favorite blanket.
However, those thoughts are interrupted by the sound of boots on gravel and the murmur of voices. The camp was slowly waking. And Luther can see a flicker of disappointment at the sounds, because it meant their alone time was slowly coming to an end and they would have to be about their work.
Watching out of the corner of his eye as she kisses his shoulder, Luther exposes a tooth, enjoying the contact in that moment. The same way she rolls around the inclusive word 'we', he wraps his mental fingers around the wording of 'lover'. His gaze turns explorative, shifting away and down to her exposed skin. The mention of summer sets a new roll of thoughts that are touched with uncertainty.
There was a danger about planning for the future. Long ago he had dared to dream about it, and that turned into a nightmare that haunts him in his sleep with the faces of the lost frequenting those dark dreams. Fear of loss jabs at him anew, a hesitation about the situation coming over the man as his back flexes straight with the involuntary chill. He fights the feeling. Luther's hand reaches out for hers, fingers curling around where her mind picks his.
However, he too is suddenly very aware of their exposure at the sound of the boots on the gravel and murmurs outside the tent. And, the conflict in his gut as he also recognizes their present moment of privacy will soon need to end. Luther's head bows, not wanting to look away from her. His eyes lift and he pauses, brow furrowed as he studies her face, before impulsively he leans in to kiss her again heatedly, to dash away any other thoughts and fears circling.
The pang of loss has a certain tone and texture in the hum of his mind, so when he straightens suddenly Kaylee leans back a little with worry. Had she said the wrong thing? There is a temptation to look and see, but she stops herself, curling her ability tight around her.
When he reaches for her, her fingers curl around his in turn, thumb brushing at his warmer skin. Blue eyes search his with sudden uncertainty, until he moves in with that heated kiss. It takes her breath away, as she isn’t expecting it. It has the effect he is hoping for. After a surprised moment and a breath sighed against his lips, everything else is cast out of the telepath’s mind as her free hand moves to slide behind his neck in an attempt to pull them closer together. Her chilled skin warming where their bodies come together.
He can feel it. There is the whisper of her mind against his, bringing about a certain awareness with it. Breaking the kiss briefly, she whispers, breathless, with lips still close to his, “I can make them go away for a little longer,” a mischievous tip to her smile.
The awareness of her becomes encompassing for Luther, the man’s mind feeling and reaching for the mental brush the way his hands wrap around her. He pauses at that break for breath, grey eyes caught up in blue glinting in reflection of her mischief. “Only a little longer,” he echoes in agreement, but then falls silent because he turns and grabs the rest of the sheet to pull around them.
Later
The day has not dragged on, though they were technically late to the initial activities. With the beginnings of spring comes the added movements of the mobile camp and preparations for the Resistance to follow Eve’s plans. Supply runs are ratcheted up in frequency as the buzz around is that they’re making a move. What that move is, though, remains in hushed circles.
Luther and Kaylee have been apart during most of the day with work duties keeping them busy. It’s almost dark by the time Luther manages to find his way into the mess, and like most days his late meal isn’t one, but a drink. Lynette and Luther’s still is off-limits, so proclaims a painted sign hung off a nail. Everyone else knows better than to try and mess with the it on pain of punishment for stealing. Or death. Between the electrokinetic and the man who is rumored to have eaten people, it would not be pretty.
That’s where Luther can be found, hovering over the contraption and taking a moment to enjoy the relative quiet. A tin cup in his hand tips back as he takes a short sip of the practically gasoline level of moonshine.
“There you are,” Kaylee’s voice quips from behind him brightly, before arms encircle him and he can feel the press of her head against his broad back. It’s only briefly that she does that, before arms slide away and she steps around alongside him to eye the still with mild curiosity.
Whatever Kaylee’s been doing, there is dirt smudged along her cheek and across her brow, clearly where she’s been wiping at her face while working. Her blonde hair is braided, but whatever activities she had been participating in her shorter pieces of hair have escaped. Her clothes look just about as bad. One thing no one could fault her for was her willingness to get down and dirty if work called for it. “Cooper told me I’d be able to find you here. Something about it practically being a ritual.” That last is said with a bit of a lopsided smile.
Her arms slip around and while there’s a brief stiffening of his back at the sudden contact, Luther eases when he realizes it’s her. He follows her as she steps around, taking in her smudged cheeks and brow, the messy braid, her smile. The smile he faintly mirrors, eyes half-lidded and studying. It’s a look he seems to reserve only for her these days.
It’s a look that evaporates when she mentions Cooper’s words, largely because Luther grunts at the mention of the other man, remarking with a glance into the cup of moonshine. “He knows what all this is for. We check it every day,” he nods towards the still. If it’s drinkable, it’s drunken, if the liquid’s not, then Nancy gets the batch. More often than not, the affectionately named bus is the winner of that situation.
But she knows that. Luther reaches his free hand to move over a stray flyaway of her hair. His gaze doesn’t stray from hers. “There’s a little somethin’…” he starts to say, fingers brushing at the dirt on her cheek, his own taking on a faint flush of color as he leans in, the heady scent of alcohol mixed with the day’s work around his person.
Her head ducks a bit and her smile turns shy as he brushes at the stray hair. Her cheeks flush slightly at the brush at smudge. “Amazing how much mud is produced by melting snow,” she comments softly, glancing at him out of corner of her eye, brushing at the spot he just brushed with his thumb. There is a touch of amusement at the dirt on her fingers. “I think a shower is in order tonight.”
As he leans in, there is a flicker of awareness and blue eyes turn to meet grey. Despite the fact he smells strongly of alcohol and tastes of it too, Kaylee goes up on her toes some to meet him in a kiss, not caring what others might see or think of the display of affection with the ‘Beast’. Or maybe she wants them to see. See that he is human just like them and not this thing they have made him into. “Want to join me after dinner?” the telepath asks softly, with a bit a growl to her voice, after she’s properly kissed him. A ploy to actually get him to take a shower.
A woman’s gotta do what a woman’s gotta do for the good of the whole camp.
“Then I might go find someplace quiet to watch the sunset,” Kaylee adds offhandedly as her attention turns to the cup in his hand, since she can smell it this close. She leans down and sniffs it. Nose wrinkling a bit. “You can drink that?” the telepath can’t help but ask, not sounding off put - she did kiss him after all - but more surprised.
As lips meet, Luther sets the cup down on the nearby table where part of the still is set up, but he doesn’t quite let go of it. Lest it drops somewhere, and every little drop seems to count from its painstakingly distilled batch. It’s on the backburner of his mental focus though, made fuzzy by the feeling of her mouth and the strength of the drink. The man’s other arm wraps around her, a strength in his curling fingers about her hip.
In that brief break for breath, he blinks at her invitation, a brow arching. She might intend for him to shower. His thoughts stray to a less clean activity. But as she moves on to voice her plans, he turns back. “I would, but gotta check on the night patrols,” he makes as his excuse to avoid a shower. Although, the routine of the man has been going through some adjustments since they got together.
He debates inwardly, weighing options even as she makes a comment about the drink. “Yeah, you want to try a sip?” He lifts the cup in hand, offering to the telepath.
“If she doesn’t drink it, I will,” comes a voice from the edge of the mess area. Jennifer, part of another team that does supply runs, comes forward with a small sack of items slung over a shoulder. How long had she been watching or listening from afar is a guess, though she slips a longer look in Kaylee’s direction as she passes by the pair.
There is a flicker of disappointment at his refusal of her offer, but she recovers quickly enough and offers a bit of a smile. “Another time then.” Both of them were having to make adjustments.
When he offers the cup, it isn’t for a dislike of drinking that she doesn’t take it right away… Kaylee remembers her rebellious and wild younger teenage years before her ability came into play… in fact, there is flick of a wistful expression, but it’s survival that has her starting to say ‘no,’ her head already shaking a little.
Right about then that voice comes from behind them, like nails on a chalkboard to the telepath. Luther can feel her stiffen and her back straighten at the arrival of Jennifer. It’s not a friendly look that is offered to the woman, even though she manages to curl her lips into a smile, though she doesn’t even really greet the woman. Instead she continues with the refusal, “I would love to,” however, there is a but in those words. “But, I can’t.” Kaylee hates admitting it, especially in front of her, but she also doesn’t see a reason to hide it.
Tearing her eyes away from Jennifer, she offers Luther an apologetic look, attempting to take a step back from the man, as her stomach twists from guilt. “My ability is always on and the only way I keep from being bombarded by people’s minds is the barrier I have up. Some things cause me to lose control of it…” Her eyes drop to the cup, “Alcohol is one of them.” Her shoulders shrug a bit, “Doesn’t mean y’all can’t enjoy it.” Though the jealousy burns bright in her to think of Jennifer enjoying a drink with him, and a mild warning glare is sent Jennifer’s way.
Maybe it’s a good thing that she doesn’t take the cup, given the smell of the strong-enough-to-be-gasoline alcohol is quite pungent, promising to be something that burns. Luther doesn’t look offended by the refusal, although he’s surprised with the telepath’s reaction as Jennifer strolls by. Her attempt to step back is met with a tightened grasp of fingers, a flicker of his eyes to hers accompanying a furrowed brow and pursed lip. Where was she going?
Jennifer lacks an ability, but what she lacks in superpower she makes up for with an extremely stubborn gusto. The woman unpacks the bit of rations she’s got onto the makeshift shelving where other food supplies are kept. She tries to ignore the tension felt between her and Kaylee, especially with Luther there, though seeing him holding onto the telepath creates a deeper annoyance. The feeling of inadequacy gets stuffed down as foil wrapped food gets stacked. “That’s a real shame,” Jennifer remarks as she sets the last can on the shelf, “Some of the most fun times in camp have come when everybody’s loosened up a little.”
“That’s not what this stuff’s for,” Luther cuts in as he stares over at the redhead. “And any loose spots in the night patrol lines are going to get a talkin’ to. In fact…” The man finally tilts back the rest of the drink fully into his own mouth, swallows, and sets the cup down with a harder-than-needed clank of tin on wood. “Thanks for the reminder. I believe it’s your team’s turn to do the rounds.”
Jennifer looks incredulous, starting to protest as she opens her mouth to do so, but the look from Luther silences her and she shuts up. Teeth find her lower lip to bite, and the woman straightens considerably from the eased lean she finds herself in. An accusatory glance shoots to Kaylee, an inward assumption made of the telepath’s influence on Luther’s cool response. With a huff, the woman turns and stalks off, stuffing the emptied bag under an arm.
Luther waits until Jennifer’s a distance past earshot before turning back to Kaylee, although he doesn’t quite meet her eyes, his gaze landing on the scar on her face. “She doesn’t know what it means to have to be ‘on’ all the time,” rumbles the man as he examines the scar, though his thoughts aren’t focused on it. Rather, the understanding of her ability seems to have deepened some. The feeling of putting up a barrier, strengthened against outside intrusion, is something he can relate to. He breathes out a short sigh, with it a feeling of regret. “I’ll make it fast,” he suggests of his later patrol duty. The arm around her curls in further.
Unable to escape, Kaylee attention goes to Luther’s chest, as she tries to ignore the other woman. Brows furrowed and jaw clenched, it’s obvious that the words - for some dumb reason - bother her. A hand lifts to curl in the lapel of the man’s coat, knuckles white. Why did she let that woman bother her so much?
It’s Luther that startles her out of dark thoughts. Her gaze flies up when he downs the last of the drink, following the journey of the cup from his mouth to the table. Eyes widen a bit, when he then puts the other’s woman group on patrol duty. There is no smugness in the look she level at Jennifer as her gaze lifts from the cup and the hand seems to relax it’s grip, but stays loosely gripping the rough fabric.
For a moment, Kaylee looks like she might kiss him again, but it seemed like a poor reaction to what he just did. So she ends up just awkwardly standing there staring at him, as if seeing him a little different. “No,” Kaylee agrees with his assessment of the other woman, “she doesn’t. She isn’t like us, that much I know.” It isn’t judgmental when she says that, just fact. “But, she’s definitely not going to forget that slight anytime soon.” There is a sort of warning in those words, looking in the direction Jennifer left. Her voice hushed, “Pretty sure she blames me for it.” She heard it, unable to miss it.
Her gaze lifts to his again, brightening when he mentions being quick. Sliding a foot forward to lean in closer, Kaylee gives a bit of a wicked smile. “You best be hurryin’.” He can feel the brush of her mind and he is suddenly remembering earlier thoughts about her invitation to join her for a shower. A few note tossed in of her own. The telepath knows exactly what she is doing, a questioning brow tipping up slightly. “Unless you really aren’t interested in that shower.”
“She knows she’s only got herself to blame,” Luther replies about Jennifer’s possible retaliation for the assignment. That he sounds convinced of it, for now, but the man adds with a roll of his shoulders, “And she knows where to find me if she’s got a problem with it.” But, he hadn’t heard the accusation leveled in the redhead’s thoughts.
The contact and subsequent mental brush shift his attention front and center. He swallows roughly, for a moment seeming like he won’t be going anywhere any time soon. The tease of her suggestion and then the remark about showering earn a low whispered reply, “Oh, I get it. You want to save water.” He leans over to her ear, a quick press of his lips under her jaw, and he leaves that counter-tease behind.
Finally, Luther releases her from his grip and he’s the one who steps back a pace but remains within arms’ reach. “I’ll be back soon. Don’t start without me.”
Whatever worries she has about Jennifer is tabled for another time, Kaylee’s focuses solely on the man in front of her. Obviously, please that her tease worked, “Well, you know we have to do-” her voice trails off and catches as he bends down and place that kiss, finding one of those spots that gets a reaction from her. When he pulls back, he finds her face flush and she lets out a shaky huff of breath. Well, then.
Still within’ reach, slender hands fly up to capture his face, so that she can kiss him. It’s heated and full of promise…. and unfortunately short. Breaking the kiss suddenly, she growled out a warning, “Leave me waiting and I will be very cross, Mr. Bellamy.” There is one more quick kiss, before she lets go of him and turns to leave him there with this still, a small knowing smile on her lips.
Hints of alcohol still linger between them as he sucks in a breath after the first, heated kiss. He gives her a funny look, brows pinching at the middle with her sudden bit of formality. Others do call him Bellamy, sure, but the context catches him a bit off guard. He’s still left wondering about it until she kisses him a second time to break him from the reverie.
Luther watches as she heads off, and is still for a few moments more before he turns abruptly and directs his path towards the camp’s outer borders.
Later
He meant to hurry. The inspection of the patrol routes took longer than he may have liked, but the belief of a job done right the first time keeps them secure. That’s the idea, anyway. Still, it’s with as quick a pace as he can muster that doesn’t appear like he’s going to break into a jog that Luther heads towards the shower area.
It’s likely he doesn’t realize how covered in mud he is. The coat’s already been shed, left behind likely flopped over the back of a chair in the tent. It’s the rest of him that appears to have been laying in the mud and snow, digging in some fortifications. The afternoon’s worn on, and with the sunset impending, Luther approaches with that sense of urgency, a deadline hanging in the dusky looking sky.
Grey eyes scan around searching for the telepath. He doesn’t yet call out for her though, stepping around in checking for occupants or possible witnesses.
He’s late. He’ll know when he hears it, the sound of water hitting concrete back in one of the makeshift shower areas. Showers were rare compared to baths, but with the campstyle showers they could shut them off in between soaping up.
But it was also cold as… well… at least after the initial warm wears off.
Despite that fact, she was not sharing bath water with everyone before her, at least. So Kaylee grits her teeth and dunks her head under the stream of now cold water. Letting out a huff after she’s sufficiently doused in cold water, fumbling to close off the water again so that she can soap her hair. Pushing wet ropes of hair out of her face, she stops suddenly at the appearance of a familiar hum. She debates calling him out on being late, but something in his mind gives her pause. Maybe the fact, he knows he’s late. Instead turning towards the entrance of the stall, Kaylee pushes the curtain aside, an invitation.
Head tilting to the sound of the water, Luther draws in as a moth to flame. Or a man in a desert to an oasis. His steps, fast at first, slow when he nears the open curtain from an angle that doesn’t give him a view of the woman within. When he finally comes in to view around the corner of the stall, there’s a degree of guilt seated in his expression.
A weighing of possible words comes to mind, between apology and possibly simply stating his excuse for being late to join. None of those words make it out of him though, as he steps in to nearly fully fill in the threshold of the stall. “Water looks cold,” he says in place of an excuse, grey eyes shifting up to the shower head, then back to her.
“And you look like you crawled through a mud pit,” Kaylee comments back a touch flatter then she means too. A hand rubs at her other arm, over the goosebumps raised by the chill in the air. Not to mention she feels suddenly very exposed standing there, with wet long hair plastered to damp skin. “The water was warm earlier,” she adds after a moment, fingers tucking clinging hair behind one ear, a glance going up to the shower head.
Eyes drift back and down at his clothes, “If you think you are coming in here dressed like that…” Kaylee trails off, actually sounding a little amused. A couple of steps, close the distance between them, fingers move to hook around that hem of his shirt with the goal of getting it off of him. “Good thing I brought clothes for both of us.” He was overdue for a change anyhow.
The comment about his appearance gets him to look down, suddenly seeming aware of the mud and snow melted and mixed in with the sweat and lingering smell of the alcohol faintly sticking to his person. “That’s ‘cause I did,” answers Luther with a short chuckle, especially as she comes closer. His gaze lifts to her face, hand reaching up to push aside one of the water-darkened locks of her hair.
As she starts to pull and lift at the hem of his shirt, he then reaches down to pause her hand for a moment. “Wait,” he utters as he gently presses her hand back to her, and takes a moment to retreat a step. “I’ll be back.” The words are sincere, given not in apology but in promise. Luther turns and steps away out of view, and she can hear his footsteps, sense his mind moving away from the shower area.
Minutes pass, leaving her in the cold, wet stall for a time. When she can feel him returning, Luther does so with purpose in his stride and doesn’t entirely wait for invitation once he’s back to come into the stall. His large body creates a more cramped feel, though there’s still enough room for them. “Try it now,” he nods towards the shower head.
There is a touch of confusion as he stops her, though she doesn’t stop him. Kaylee’s mouth opens like she is going to say something, maybe protest, but… nothing comes of it. Her expression shifts into one of open curiosity as he steps back. Arms wrap around herself as she watch him disappear, her head pops out to watch his retreating back for a moment longer.
“Huh,” Kaylee says softly to herself retreating into the stall again.
The sincerity in his voice is what keeps her there, cold and wet. Kaylee is starting to worry, by time she hears the hum of his mind. Then he is there again and urging her to turn on the water again. Brows tick upward and she looks a touch hesitant, but there is enough trust there that she does turn it on. Though taking a couple steps back as the spray starts out icy cold. It doesn’t last long as the icy water makes way for the heated water. He can see her straighten a bit in surprise. Hands uncurls from herself and the telepath reaches for the warm water. A glance goes back over her bare shoulder and he’s rewarded with a bright smile.
Then without a word she steps under the fall of water with a happy sound and a sigh of pleasure. The telepath runs hands over her face and hair as she comments, letting the water run over her and warm her chilled body, “You’re the best. I’m completely jealous of your ability right now.”
For a minute, Luther leans against the wall of the stall and watches her enjoying the heated water. As she turns to look over her shoulder at him, he cants his head to the side, a crooked smile coming to his features. “Should I leave you alone?” he asks after a few more seconds, brushing aside the comment about his ability in favor of a more suggestive query, teasing her slightly for that reaction. He knows how she feels about being warm now.
That question has her turning to look at him, cheeks flushing slightly as she realizes how she’s acting. Reaching up, she turns off the water, no reason to waste it. Kaylee brushes water off her face and out of her eyes. “Why are you still dressed,” she finally fires back, her own smile reflects his crooked one.
Eyes narrow at him as if trying to figure him out, though he can tell it is an act, by that smile. “Oooh. I get it,” she drawls out in a tease, stepping over to where he’s leaning on the wall, barefeet sending out ripples where the water is pooled on the floor of the shower. “Need some help there?” Kaylee says softly, leaning in for a lingering kiss, while fingers catch the shirt again, fingers leaving the fabric wet, where they pull at it. Though instead of pulling it up, wet hands find his stomach, fingers splaying across muscles there and pushing the muddy shirt up a bit. She takes her time, pulling her lips away from his so that she can give him a challenging look, waiting to see if he is going to stop her this time.
"What? I just got back here," Luther notes, hands spread in mock-helplessness. It preps him for when she steps closer, and he helps her with pulling the muddy shirt off. The kiss is broken up long enough to slide the shirt around his head. For a moment he stands there to think on his next move, looking down at her unclothed form versus his half. And then his stare back faces her challenge head on, and he reaches behind him to pull the shower curtain closed.
Later
Luther stares up at the sky with its pink-tinged, brown-grey clouds pockmarking a darkening, dusky colored view of the heavens. His thoughts wander and go nowhere all at once with the sort of blank, neutral appreciation for the present moment of peace. He lifts a hand, rough fingers scratching at the freshly washed beard in a way testing its length, determining whether there is the need for a shave. That follows with a look over to the telepath beside him, and he finds himself studying the low light and the way she looks in it.
Perched on a crumbling rock garden wall, he’ll notice Kaylee doesn’t even seem to be watching the sunset. Eyes are unfocused and lost in thought, even though she is facing in the proper direction. It’s a look that seems to go along with conversations with a certain ghost in her head. There is a blink and then another, brows furrowed a bit and eyes lift to the sunset…. And she just seems to relax again, a small smile on her lips.
“I don’t think you should,” the telepath say softly, looking over at him. A hand lifts to lightly scratch along his jaw herself, having heard his thoughts. “Looks good on you.”
Her attention goes to the reddened sky, tucking still damp hair behind her ear. “Days like this…. World doesn’t seem so bad.” She knows it’s still bad, but it’s a quiet moment in the chaos. It’s clear she wants to say more, but teeth catch at her lower lip and brows furrow. “You…” she finally starts, trailing off as she for a moment loses the nerve.
“You sure you still want me to stay with you?” Kaylee asks quietly, “To share your tent?” Invade his life of solitude fully, is what she is trying to ask, without really asking it. Giving him an out, really.
His turn to look unfocused comes around. Luther blinks back at the telepath, confused for a moment before he realizes she’d ‘heard’ his thoughts. It’s not an unnerving feeling so much as that he’s aware of her ability’s characteristic. He could relate to it, the energy of the environment around them something he was always feeling out whether he was focused on it or not. His hand lowers from his jaw, but he then reaches for hers, the one that brushed him then tucked her hair back.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he notes the roughness of the skin around her scarred palm. Luther glances up as she tests the waters one more time. A soft snorted sound gives the answer as he eyes her, a brow lifting. No proclamation comes from the man, no dramatic profession of love. Rather, he curls his fingers around hers and turns to look back to the setting sun, waiting, watching the fiery orb of light as it sinks into the horizon.
Only when it’s finally past the darkened line and night has technically begun does he slide a look back to her. “Is he going to have a problem with it?” asks Luther after a long beat. Grey eyes blink towards a space beside her, as if somehow expecting there to be a figure. Then it’s back to Kaylee, anticipating her response.
Long fingers curl with Luther’s, her gaze falling to the joined hands with a small smile. Kaylee understands with that gesture, turning her attention to the setting sun. Falling quiet and enjoying his company and honestly the company of her other ghostly companion.
Luther’s countering question gets a look of surprise and then it settles into unease. Kaylee looks down and away, attention to a spot on her other side. “Well?” She hesitantly asks of the currently invisible man. After a moment, lips press together and she sighs. “He’s… well, it’s time you met him.”
Fingers pull out of his hand and fingers move to press against his temple. There is a brief look of concentration, Luther feels her ability wind around his mind, brushing lightly. Then suddenly where there was nothing, another man is there next to Kaylee.
“Luther,” she says looking rather nervous about this… “meet Tyler Case.”
The optical illusion of a six foot tall man stepping out from behind Kaylee’s petite silhouette is momentarily jarring. But as Tyler stands from a stoop, he flashes an awkward smile in Luther’s direction. “Oh hey yeah, uh, hi I guess.” Tyler’s expression shifts into an awkward smile as he scratches one hand at the back of his head.
Grimacing, Tyler looks down at his feet. “It's sweet that, uh, you're worried about be Luthie.” Luthie. “But really, I mean… Kaylee and I had a heart to heart. You know. Or— a head to head? This is kinda’ challenging to me. Uh, but yeah… she thinks you're the bees knees,” who the fuck, “and… you know, I've seen a lot of you. So I know.”
Tyler smiles broadly. “Think of me like a weird uncle that's always watching.” Why is he like this?
Still not used to the texture necessarily of a telepathic brush, Luther twitches his jaw as she leans over to press her fingers against his temple and draw him into her mind… where Tyler suddenly appears. Or perhaps it’s the other way around, with Luther manifesting in Kaylee’s mindscape. Either way, the man tenses abruptly at the appearance of Tyler, retreating a couple of steps.
Until, Luther remembers that Tyler’s more like a ghost. He sniffs roughly, nostrils flaring, shoulders hunching as he studies Tyler. Luthie, as it is, no likey.
“Fuck, I thought he was more…” The man trails off, because he’s not sure what he thought what Tyler was, in his mind’s eye. Whatever he thought, it wasn’t this. Whatever he is, though, is pushed aside as Tyler goes on. About always watching and weird uncles. “The fuck is that supposed to mean,” the man growls at the other, stepping around and circling like a wary cat. Invisible hackles raised, Luther waits a brief second before he takes a quick swipe at the man.
With the connect made with a familiar mind, the connect is maintained even as he stumbles away. However, she’s not thinking about that, Kaylee is staring at Tyler with jaw dropped. Did he just…
Oh god. Cheeks blush brightly. He did.
“Tyler!” Kaylee finally, manages to get out. “Think before opening your mouth.” It was different when it was only her that could hear it.
This was not going how she saw it in her mind.
Of course, then Luther is circling Tyler and swiping at other guy. “Luther… it doesn’t…” The telepath sighs and buries her face in her hands, letting the man figure it out himself. There is a temptation to drop the connection, but this needed to happen.
“He’s real and stuck in my head,” Kaylee finally comments after a moment or two if trying to decide if she wants to cry or not. “I.. just needed you to see him to know that…” There is a heavy sigh and she looks at Tyler. “He’s not eloquent… and has zero filter, but for now, he’s part of me and… he’s my friend.” You don’t have someone like that in your head for this many months and not end up with some sort of understanding. “And..” She gives Tyler a hard look, “He’s promises to behave.”
Regardless of perceptive reality Tyler still recoils from the swing, backpedaling andtripping over himself and falling over to avoid getting hit. He sits there on his ass, palms flat on the ground. There's something of a put-off look as he shifts his attention from Luther to Kaylee and back again.
“Look here captain dadbod,” Tyler points up at Luther, “she likes you a whole lot but if you disappoint her or hurt her, I'm pretty sure her dad probably made some crazy Rube Goldberg machine ten years ago that'll kill you the moment you do.” Furrowing his brows, Tyler looks down at himself, then back up. “Or… you know… I'll be really disappointed. Because you… otherwise seem like an okay dude.”
Looking like he might pursue still trying to get a hit in, Luther looms over Tyler. But the ‘Beast’ doesn’t move further, save to cant his head at the strange man. The withering look Luther gives the head-ghost is one Tyler’s seen him give others in camp plenty of times. The way a dad looks when he doesn’t approve of some boy dating his daughter. A dad who owns a shotgun or two.
Atop Kaylee’s statement of the man being her friend, and the threat of some machinations of the past, Luther backs off. He snorts with a brief dissatisfaction, half-turning away, shoulders rolling to loosen them. “You can stay,” he utters as if he had any choice of the matter. He turns a look back on Tyler. “But no more watching.” Creepy weirdo, the growled tone implies. Not that Luther can actually do anything about it if he does.
Lifting a hand to scratch at his jaw again, Luther sniffs in a long breath, exhales slower, a bit calmer. Overall a “good” reaction for the man. He looks back over at Kaylee, although keeping Tyler in his periphery. “If he bothers you…” The man trails. There’s a sense of ‘I’ll take care of it’ to the end of the sentence that doesn’t come, and the obviousness that there really isn’t much Luther can do about Tyler, but he’s simply offering. And being protective, in a roundabout way.
When Luther utters those words ‘you can stay,’ Kaylee’s vision blurs with tears; as if he said those words to her. Slowly climbing to her feet, the telepath looks down at Tyler with a smile, “We’ll talk later,” she says shakily and suddenly he is gone from Luther’s view. Though in truth, he’ll still be sitting there for Kaylee, at least for the moment, there is an illusion of it only being the two of them again.
Tears are wiped at with the back of her hand, both both hands move to frame Luther’s scruffy face. The smile he gets, despite the tears, is brilliant and holds something there. “You don’t know how much I worried… and… and stressed over you really meeting him. I- “ Words fail her in that moment, so instead with a stifled sob, Kaylee throws arms around his neck and hugs him tightly, like she doesn’t want to ever let go. Despite all of her baggage… he had in his way accepted all of her. With those three words, it was like a huge weight had been lifted.
Luther can't see it, but with the connection severed, Tyler stands behind Luther with his hands on his hips, making locking pantomime of Luther’s expressions and mannerisms. Kaylee is the only one who can appreciate the gesticulations, if that's even the right word for it.
Undecided on whether or not it’s weirder that he saw Tyler or that the other man’s suddenly disappeared, Luther stills as his face is bracketed with her cool fingers. Grey eyes blink at her tears, and he doesn’t speak a response to her worries, doesn’t dismiss the stress. Arms wrap around the telepath as she clings on to him, and he exhales another calming sigh into the feel of her hair.
After a long beat he rumbles out, “He’s behind me, isn’t he.” There’s a twinge of concern in it, and a twang of gruff indulgence.
Blue eyes open to the scene behind Luther’s shoulder. If Tyler was trying to make her laugh, it works. Though Kaylee tries very hard not to laugh, it fails; she even buries her face against Luther’s neck to hide from the spectacle, but there is a short snort of laughter there. After that, she can only really nod her head against the warmth of his neck. If she says ‘yes’, she’ll definitely starting laugh.
There is a long moment where she tries to school her emotions and dash the sight from her mind, only then does Kaylee pull away and study Luther. “Can we go home now?” She asks softly, her voice still edged with humor, as she desperately tries to avoid looking at the ghost behind the man she loves. “It’s been a rather…. busy day and I wouldn’t mind a little warmth.”
He didn't have to ask, but at the same time, he did anyway. Luther narrows his eyes, staring into the distance past Kaylee's withheld laughter. The man blows out a snort along with the annoyance lingering from his pride taking a jab or two. It fades further at the request from the woman in his arms, at her pulling away enough to look at him eye to eye, where he sees the love in her gaze. Luther's chest rises, falls, and puffs with a short sniff. A glance goes to the dark, dusky line where the sun has set. "Sure," he replies eventually, and turns to guide them both - them three - back to the heart of camp and the tent they'll share.