March 23, 2017
MalFox Industries, Malcolm's Office in Barcelona
(From live play with Ada.)

Malcolm had been busy with meetings all morning, and had just taken his lunch break. His office was on the twelfth floor, the very top of the building. The office was open and spacious, with floor to ceiling windows that showed Barcelona's marvelous city and the beach shore no more than half a mile away. The interior was all chrome, black and red interior. Modernized from the furniture, to the carpet, to the art that was splattered here and there on the walls and in the corners of the room.

Currently, he was sitting at his marbled desk in that leather maroon plush office chair and called Ada to join him moments before. Tossing the empty take out box one of the secretaries had fetched for him, he set to work cutting the end of a cigar and struck a match. Lips surrounded the thick tube as he puffed on it, running the flame over the end to get it lit before flicking his wrist to extinguish the match. Leaning back in that chair, he simply let his food settle and waited for Ada to show up.



It hadn't taken her long to show up after he called, she was always just moments behind him. It almost seemed like she was everywhere at once, really. Or maybe she was secretly a twin. Who knew? Ada was one of those types who wore unflattering pantsuits, and kept her hair in a messy bun. Unless she was going out, and then she'd wear contacts and more fitted clothing. That was a rare occasion for her, though. She was married to her job. She was Malcolm's right hand 24/7, and slept when he slept. Ada...didn't have much of a life. She'd never admit that, though, and never complained.

Carrying a bag on the side that held a tablet, a laptop, and two cell phones (in case one died or lost reception) she moved into the room. Pushing her glasses up on her nose, she brushed a lock of hair from her eyes and looked at him. "You called, Mr. Fox?" she asked, pulling out her tablet which... Well, the same way he'd be lost without her, she'd be lost without it.



He would undoubtedly be lost without her, but he wouldn't admit it. Mostly because he had a feeling that he'd never hear the end of it. There was a little bit of a sigh to that greeting as he shook his head and leaned back in his office chair. Speaking through a plume of smoke that escaped his lips, he looked at his assistant. "Ada, I told you. When it's just us, you call me Malcolm." She'd been his right hand for at least five years now, but sometimes her professionalism was above and beyond. Reaching out, he tapped the loose ash into the tray on his desk and lifted his chin to the plush block-ish chairs in front of it. "I got something to discuss with you."



Ada brought up a few apps to have them at the ready when he corrected her. "Malcolm, right..." Attempting to not curl her nose at the smoke. What? She had asthma and she liked Star Wars! She moved to take a seat and turned her eyes to him with a little smile. Poor thing could really use a nap at this point. Ada'd find the time, though. Not during actual work hours. "Sounds serious," she told him. "...It's not another sexual harassment lawsuit, is it?" she asked, pulling out her phone. "I'll call the lawyer."



The curl of her nose had him glancing to the cigar, crinkling his own. "Sorry, sweetheart. I forget." Ada was one of the few that he could say something like 'sweetheart' or 'darlin' and not make it sound like flirting to. It was just an endearing pet name. Turning his head away from her, he blew out the remnants of the smoke and stabbed it out. Standing to his feet, he snickered. "Depends on your definition of--" he trailed off with a scowl as he moved to one of the window panes that wasn't a window pane at all - but a door to the balcony. Opening it to air out the room, he shook his head and held up his hand. "No, no. It's not another damn sexual harassment suit... this time." He sighed. Yes, he was the type of boss to sleep with his receptionists and secretaries. He was a notable man whore, but he only showed interested when they did. With reason, though these days, he was much more careful with it. "Do anything they can to get a fat paycheck," he grumbled under his breath before moving back to his desk to sit on the edge a few feet away from her. "Thinkin' it's time for a little vacation."



Never one to ask someone to put out their smokes, especially not her boss...she was however grateful that he did it himself and it showed on her softening features. She pulled the phone away from her ear and disconnected it without a second thought. "Thank goodness, I think the judge is getting sick of you," she admitted and switched back to the tablet. "...You could try not to sleep with people you hire?" she suggested with an elevation of brow. "I feel like that might solve things," she grinned weakly and then furrowed her brow at the mention of vacationing. "Where would you like to go? Any travel companions?" looking down at her tablet.



He could be pretty insensitive, and at times, a downright prick. But there was some people he'd be accommodating for. His siblings, Ada.. The fact it was a health issue was a good factor, too. Snickering, he shook his head. "There's only so many times before the Judge starts believing them," he crinkled his nose. "Then I'm screwed," he sighed. Something told him that if it wasn't for the fact that he was a man, a big man at that, with a bunch of tattoos and piercings... the Judge wouldn't look at him with half the skepticism. "Luckily, I have a damn good lawyer. Thanks for finding them, by the way," he tacked on. "It might," he admitted to the solution. "...But all work and no play makes Malcolm a dull boy," he pouted at her, snickering. He wasn't great at learning his lesson. And was a stubborn mule that didn't like to change his ways. He was silent a second as he smoothed his hair back with his palms, considering for a moment before he dropped them to his lap. "...Home.. And, if I'm lucky...." He looked over to her with those evergreen puppy dog eyes. "...The best assistant in the world as my travel companion?.."

He eyed her a moment. "...I might be willing to bribe.."

If he pulled that shit, she'd snap a photo and spread it around the office. You know she will, Fox! You know it! Ada gave him a loot and rolled her eyes. "It's gonna be stuck forever, you're not creative unless it involves getting a woman's panties off," she teased him in a mumble before nodding when he told her the days. She punched it in without thinking, and then her eyes widened. "Four days?!" she'd booked the trip, but now regretted it. "Crap! I have to pack, and get things squared away around here...cancel your meetings," she sighed softly. "You're killing me..." she muttered and pushed up to her feet, ready to rush off and get shit done.

You'd think she ran the company.



Sadly enough, that's probably the lone reason why he hadn't done it yet. Though she teased him, he lifted his chin proudly. "I'm the best at what I do," declared, sniffling once before grinning. The way she punched it in, he thought he was in the clear of the backlash until... there it was. He gave her that apologetic puppy look, which.. he did feel bad. He usually did, because he knew she would bust her ass to get things ready in the time allotted. "I knowwww," he groaned. "I'm sorry, I didn't..." Think things through? Did he ever? "Wait," he held up his hands... as if four day time limit wasn't bad enough. There was more. "You don't have to pack. Just.. pack enough to get there. I'll give you a credit card and you can go on a shopping spree," he suggested, raising his brows. Like it was a reason to splurge on her. Guiltttttttttttt. "And... Thinking it's going to be for like... a month? Maybe longer?" He mumbled, ducking his head again. You would think she ran the company with the way he was acting. But honestly... he'd be a mess without her. And it was beyond him how she hadn't said fuck this and quit on him yet.



Give it time, she surely would quit on him. It would be a rage quit and a half, too. "A month?" she asked, eyes widening. "I would have asked for more than two nights off if I'd have known it was a month!" she griped at him, not even appreciating the credit card shopping spree! She bit her lip and shook her head. "Okay, I can do this... Just gotta... Set up communications, cancel everything, not punch my boss in the head, move stuff around... I got this..." she muttered and began starting out the door like an overwhelmed puppy.



"Yeahh..." He drawled on, like he was almost waiting for a smack. Lifting a finger, he spoke quickly. "Two nights a week." To mend it. When she rifled off all the things she had to do, he lifted his shoulders in defeat. "... I'd understand if you did?.." About punching him in the head. "You do got this." Calling after her as he lifted himself from the desk, "and! A spa day on me. The whole package.... the day you get there!" He was going to be spoiling her this month, for sure. Because really... she was too good for him.



"And one when I get back!" she snapped back after him before the door closed behind her.

The call out made her sigh lightly as she was hoping he wouldn't be in and she could just get stuff done and take her leave without being harassed. She rolled her eyes some, and aside from looking younger, she was still the same workaholic he'd come to know her as. The key card was swiped in the door and she popped it open. She backed into the room with the cart, her hair in a messy ponytail beneath a hat with the hotel's logo on it. "A friendly reminder that if you grope my butt, you'll be pulling back a nub..." she muttered softly, dangerously as she turned into the room and faced him. An eyebrow rose, "....though it looks like your hands are pretty tied..." she muttered, reaching one hand to the cart to grab her phone, and the other into her hair to pull out a pin. "...What did she look like? You get a name?" she asked, sighing softly before grabbing a blanket and tossing it over him to cover more than what he had already. It was then that she sat down on the edge of the bed and began working on the cuffs. "Every week with this s....stuff."

Some things never change.




His eyes were squeezed shut as he immediately regretting the decision to call for help. He should've just said he was busy, or something clever to go away. But... then there was that tinkle problem. What's more embarrassing? The maid finding you chained to the bed? Or the maid finding you chained to a bed after pissing on yourself because you're stupidly prideful and stubborn, champ? .... He'd deal with this one, thanks.

One evergreen hue peeked out to peer at her, like he was waiting for the punchline when she started talking about butt groping. "I... uh..." There it is. He snorted a laugh when she said his hands were tied and he shrugged. "As tempting as that is, darlin'.. I'm afraid so." Rolling his eyes, he didn't look too pleased but forced a stone statue expression on his face to hide his embarrassment. He narrowed his eyes on the phone. "As flattering as it is, no pictures please." He snickered. "Maybe later, though. I'll pose for ya." Sarcasm as a defense, he held it up like a brick wall.

The questions fired had him sighing and letting his head fall back to the pillow as he glared up to the ceiling. "She said it was Connie... that should've been my first clue. Y'know, I didn't trust that grin... should've listened to my gut. Unfortunately, my dick won. She was built like a model... not one of those twig ones, but the full figured models. Dark hair, hazel eyes. 32C cups and legs for days." He snickered, as if giving himself shit for it like it wasn't the first time his weakness was women. He lifted his head then, tilting it as he looked at her working on the cuffs. "... 34C?" He raised his brows expectantly at her.





"Trust me," when he requested no pictures, "This image will be burned in my brain for many years to come...." she said, setting her phone down on the bed and sighing. Then he spoke of posing for her, "As tempting as that is," she muttered. "I don't really make a habit of taking pictures of guests...or doing anything else with them. I do offer a mean turn-down service though..." Oh snap! Ada was prodding around in the keyhole of the cuff with the pin as he went on to describe the girl and then......guessed her bra size. She wasn't sure what she was more mad at. The fact that he guessed in the first place, or the fact that he got it right.

A little glare and then she'd go ahead and squeeze the cuff to wrap too tightly--painfully--around his wrist. "Oops, I'm so clumsy sometimes..." Afterwards, though, she went ahead and freed him. "I've spent ten seconds with you and I'm already not surprised you got yourself into this mess..." she muttered before dialing on her phone and pressing it to her ear.




"It's not that bad," he objected, peering down at himself. "I mean, I could be a 400 lb man with grey hair and rolls to the point where it got lost," he raised his brows. "Count yourself lucky." But it was that quipped line that had him laughing and setting his head back to the pillow. "Oh-hoooooo. Good one. How many times you use that line?" He asked curiously, though the smirk on his face said that he approved.

But it was that glare that had him smirking until the painful clasp of the cuff had him making a face. "Ow-ow-ow. Okay, damn." He winced, wiggling his fingers as he felt the blood circulation get cut off. "Alright. Too far. My bad." He grunted, scrunching his nose before he snickered. "Yeah, and I have self control," he muttered to her 'I'm clumsy' comment. When she freed him, he slid his hands free and rubbed his wrists. "Yeah, you wouldn't be the first, darlin'. Trust me," he snickered, sitting up on the bed before swiveling his head to the phone at her ear. "Whoa - who are you calling?" His eyes widened as he protested, but he kept looking from her to the bathroom. "Goddammit. Hold on - don't call anyone yet, alright? Can't have the press finding out about this!" Frantically wrapping the blanket around himself, the man bounded to his feet and all but booked it to the bathroom... where she'd probably hear him go for a good two minutes straight before coming out with his forearm against the door frame. "Holy fuck I've been holding that for hours.."




"Mhm..." A roll of her eyes was given to that 'lucky' comment. Then he asked about how many times she used that line. "More times than I'd care to admit," she muttered. "On more 400 pound men with grey hair and rolls than I'd care to recall.." A sad little sigh .

Then he was bitching about her calling someone and she held up her hand. "Should have thought about that before you decided to hooker up," she muttered. Then a disgusted scoff rang out when she heard his....stream start. She listened to the sound of the ring, and damn it if she wasn't cleaning the damned room while she did it. A pair of clothes were folded and set outside the door as she worked on changing the bedding. "Yo, Brad," she said into the phone in a voice that wasn't very professional. "I need a favor, yeah, yeah, another one..." Making up the bed. "I need you to pick up Jaqueline... She has something that belongs to a friend of mine. Yeah, another sucker... I'm thinking she's at the docks... I say just take everything, but we're looking for a wallet.. I think the ID will have him listed as about six feet... Green eyes, dark brown hair....average looks..." Okay, she had to take a shot...come on! Weighs probably 200 pounds. Yeah, and check her pockets for credit cards that match... Cool. Ya-huh, just one more thing... Keep this one on the down low, yeah? Midnight? Awesome. See you then."




That bit had him making a face and actually giving her an apologetic look. "...Damn, you need to get into a new line of work.. That's just.." Nasty! But her telling him that got him to stop hitting on her, that's for sure.

"She said she had four kids to support!" He barked on the way to the bathroom, pausing no more than a second with a squint. "Come to think of it, she didn't even have a damn stretch mark. ... I'm an idiot," he sighed, before he'd disappeared into the bathroom.

Leaning there for a second, he watched her before he noticed the clothes on the floor that he started working himself into. Listening to her, he kept glancing over as she worked her magic and snorted when she made a point to call him average. "Could be worse, I s'pose.." He mumbled, fastening his jeans before working himself into his shirt. When she finished up, he was dressed and eyeing her with a raised brow. "... What.. was that all about?" He asked skeptically, stepping further into the room as he smooth out those dark brown locks.




"I'll take my chances with this one," when he spoke of her line of work. Then when he told her the sob story, she softened. "Oh aren't you just the white knight...?" she asked. "Clearly, the only way for you to help her out was with your peen--you know!" she waved him off. Then he called himself an idiot and she tilted her head back, "Therrre it is. That's all I wanted to hear."

The phone disconnected and she put it back on the cart before changing the pillow cases. "That was me saving your butt..." she told him, brushing some hair from her face before making the bed the rest of the way. "Your stuff will be here by midnight, press free. You can leave a tip for me on the table," she said, lifting her chin some as she changed the trash shamelessly and worked on pushing the cart out of the room.




He rolled his eyes to the white knight comment, but raised a brow as she talked about his methods of helping out. "Hey, I don't judge. Sex workers are still hard working folk. Nothin' wrong with it. -- It's the con artists pretending to be hookers that you gotta look out for." He pointed at her before waving off what she wanted to hear. "Yeah, yeah. I'm an idiot, not the first or last time I'll say it," he scoffed.

The fact that after all that, she was still getting her job done and minimally losing her shit on him was appreciated -- even admired. He narrowed his eyes a bit as she talked about saving his ass, but his brows ticked when she told him how she did. "Well, uh... thanks," he scratched the back of his neck, crinkling his nose like he wasn't used to saying that to someone else. Snickering, he nodded. "Yeah, you can bet your ass I will." He watched her leave the room. He was a little more incredulous, stupefied and confused at what the hell just happened.

Making small talk along the way, he raised a brow as he set the bike on the floor. "So.. you're a hotel maid and a..." Considering her uniform, mostly the apron, "waitress? Hopefully waitressing is better than uncuffing naked men from bedposts," he looked over at her. The sarcasm was strong with this one.. When the bell tinged to tell them they're arrived and the doors swung open, he wasted no time on heading out of it then out the front doors. He seemed efficient on time at least, popping the trunk and setting down the bike to lean against the SUV. "Door's unlocked, go ahead and get in." And like he never learned his lesson, held his keys out to her. "Wanna start the engine? I'll get the bike in." And he'd work on just that if she got the engine going, pushing one of the back seats down to fit the bike in the trunk.




"Hotel maid, waitress, and a receptionist," she told him without much pride. "Three jobs," she informed him. "And it's got a similar clientele, handsy men, drunks, people that think they're better than you..." Yeah, she wasn't a big fan of rich people. She might respect him more if she knew he'd built it himself, but for now she might've judge him a bit. When he held out the keys, she perked a brow. Yeah, him never learning his lesson was a thought that popped into her head, but she didn't voice it. Instead she took the keys and got in, starting the engine and resting her head against the door. The girl lived on her power naps, it seemed.




"Triple threat," he snickered, but made a face when she talked about the people she dealt with. "Mhn. I probably haven't improved your view of the clientele either. Though," he lifted a finger. "I wasn't drunk." A pause, his nose scrunch. "...Actually that's probably worse," he admitted, letting out a laugh.

It wouldn't be the first time someone assumed him to be rich through inheritance or with his parents money. Far from it, actually, but at a young 25.. it was often assumed. While she readied the car, he put away the bike and climbed into the driver's seat. "Well, it fi--" looking over at the girl a moment, he shook his head. Putting the SUV in gear, he muttered. "Need to know where you work, darlin'.." A destination would be a good idea?





"Always," at the man calling her a triple threat. Then she gave a shake of her head, "At least you take no for an answer," she'd give him that one. Sure, he was a damned creep, but at least he was semi-respectful about it. Pausing as he tried to amend the situation, and she couldn't help but snort a little bit at his words and when he caught on to the fact that it made him look worse, she nodded. "Yeah, it's worse."

When he opened the door she turned her eyes over to him and sat up some before swiping her fingers below the undersides of her eyes to get rid of any smeared make up. "Emily's," she answered. If he knew his fancy cocktail bars, he'd recognize the name. "It's uptown, when you leave the parking lot, take a left."





"Don't doubt it," he agreed. "I'm a flirt. I'm not one to keep the john in the pants. I'll admit to that. But no still means no," he scoffed, shaking his head. He slept with more women than he'd like to admit, but he wasn't one of those assholes. "Ngh," he grunted to the 'worse' factor. Yeah, it was pretty bad. He wished he had liquor to fall back on, but he'd been sober as could be.

Heading toward the exit of the parking lot, he nodded slowly. "Emily's," he echoed his amusement. "At least you have good taste." Yeah, he knew it. "I know where it is." And that's precisely where he headed.

He didn't bullshit around with his driving. They were tight on time and he avoided a good portion of traffic by taking side roads. He had the urge to shoot off questions like there was no tomorrow, but didn't. The girl looked tired as hell, and he doubted she wanted to be interrogated before her shift. Instead, he'd given her a moment's peace until they pulled up in front of the fancy bar.

Keeping the engine going, he opened his door and spoke as he climbed out. "I'll grab the bike," he informed her before shutting it. Rounding the car to the trunk, he worked the bicycle out and set it on the curb. "There we are. Not even a grope attempt on the way," he teased, smirking he way before holding the handle of the bike for her to take it.





"Oh, yeah... Excellent taste," she said with a roll of her eyes. To her, it was a job, and if she didn't have to set foot in that place ever again, it would be too soon. When he was quiet on the drive, she let those eyes fall shut. She didn't go to sleep, mostly because she didn't trust him enough to fall asleep in his car, but she did rest those eyes on the little drive. Pulling out her phone when he pulled up she checked the time, and he'd gotten her there with three minutes to spare. When he went to grab her bike, she pulled her backpack off of the floor and stuck her phone inside before shrugging her way out of the vehicle. Stretching lightly, she grabbed the bike handle and looked up to him for a moment. "...." Eyes fell away, "Thanks," she said and sighed.





With the bike taken, he swatted the back door to the trunk closed and looked at her when she thanked him. He shook his head. "Don't need to thank me. Least I could do after the image that was burned into your mind today," he snickered. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out his wallet and slid a card out. At least everything seemed to be in there. Between two scissored fingers, he held the card out. In elegant scribe, it said MalFox Co. and his name 'Malcolm Fox'. His cell phone number was scrawled beneath, as well as his office number. "Just in case you change your mind on that ride later," he offered.





A little laugh was uttered out when he shot down her thanks with a very good point, "Thanks for the reminder..." she muttered softly. Then he was reaching for his wallet and she narrowed his eyes. If he tries to pay me, I'm gonna knock him in the head... The last thing she needed was her snooty coworkers thinking she was hooking on her breaks. When he produced the card, she took it and held it up. "Thanks, but... I won't." A weak smile. "Try not to get swindled by anymore hookers," looking at the card. "...Malcolm. I gotta go." Then she'd head off toward the telephone pole to chain her bike to it.





The square angles of his face was cut by a grin as he shrugged. "Could've been worse," he informed her. He'd be lying if he hadn't thought about it, but she seemed as stubborn and prideful as him - perhaps more. And he didn't feel like getting slapped tonight. "Can't say I didn't try," he sang, just to make a face. "I don't make promises I can't keep," he scoffed, sarcasm oozing from his voice. Chances were, his buying hookers days were over. Thanks to Connie, he wouldn't trust it ever again. "Keep your backhand strong," he suggested to her when she said she had to go, turning then to return to his car and climbed inside. Not wasting either of their time, he drove off.

Malcolm had a way of watching people without looking directly at them. Where the skill was picked up was anyone's guess, but it was an artform he'd mastered. Seeming to keep his eyes on his phone, his drink, studying the drink menu, or simply looking around without actually letting his eyes linger on any one particular person, he'd watched her. She was efficient, if not an overachiever. Certain times, like when she'd been scolded by another worker, he'd had to lift his glass to his lip to hide his amused smirk. It wasn't until his glass was nearly empty and she was on her way over that he looked at her directly, just to lift his chin a bit to her question. A glance to his drink, he shrugged. "Sure, darlin'. I could use another." Then the catch. "...And maybe a few minutes of your time when you get back?" His brows rose as he asked, his tone saying she was more than welcome to tell him to go fuck himself but he hoped she wouldn't.





Yeah, he was a master creeper! She hadn't really caught on that she was being watched, and nodded when he said he'd have another. She was about to walk off when he added that little extra on there and she furrowed her brow. "I'm kinda bus..." Trailing off there, she looked around. Ada wouldn't be able to say that with a straight face, dammit. She wasn't busy and it would become stupidly apparent when she left his drink with him and then just stood around. "Sure," she muttered with annoyance lacing her tone. "Coming right up," she muttered.

Then she'd be off putting in the drink order while wondering what on Rhydin he wanted now. Perhaps maybe obsessing over it a little. When it finally came up, she grabbed it and brought it to the table on a tray. Ada sat the drink down and tucked the tray beneath her arm, looking down at him. "What?"





He wasn't a creep, dammit! Okay, maybe a little bit. But not in this occasion. His head tilted with that knowing look that she'd probably wanna smack him for when she started to say she was busy. C'mon, he knew better! But to call her out would be admitting he'd been watching her. And he'd admit to nothing. Nothing! His eyes looked around with hers before circling back to her and he couldn't help the tiny smirk when she agreed to it. "I know, I'm twisting your arm being in my presence," he snickered sarcastically, though he couldn't help the assumption she hated him at the moment.

As she went off to deal with his order, he... did as he always did. Fiddled with his phone, though there'd been a short phone call in between, which he'd hung up from by the time she started over. Making the screen go black, he pocketed the phone just as she put the drink down and gave him that demanding question.

His hand gestured to the seat across from him, but wasn't demanding in the least. "Please? Unless you'd rather stand over me and glare at me, then feel free to do that, too." His brow rose as he lifted his drink for a quick sip but it was pretty clear that it wasn't where his attention was in the moment.





There was a glance around the room when he gestured to that seat, and she could already see two other waitresses looking at her, and seeming to whisper. Great... This was his fault! But she didn't take it out on him, and instead, grabbed the back of the chair and pulled it out. It... It was a little bit nice to get off of her feet, but she didn't admit it. Malcolm had given her no reason not to trust him, but then again... He didn't give her much of a reason to, either. It was his type she had a problem with. Instead of getting snippy, she just rested her hands in her lap and raised an eyebrow.





He caught the whispering Gossip Queens off to the side and perhaps a little bit of a douche move, he barely spared them a glance as if they were furniture with that stone expression. Ada didn't his kind, and he didn't like theirs. Maybe because they just reminded him of the press or those damn journalists that would write a column full of lies for a quick buck. He couldn't stand them. Turning his eyes a heartbeat later back to Ada, he straightened as she seemed to be humoring him then waited for him to speak - probably explain why he was being a pain in the ass. Match for match, his own brow raised to her and his voice was a bit hushed, if only to not give any juicy details to the Gossip Queens over the distance. "First... can I get your name, darlin'? I mean, considering..." He squinted briefly, not saying it but he wasn't sure she knew what he meant. "...It only seems fair."





"Fair?" she asked, eyebrows raised and then she scoffed lightly. No, she hadn't told anyone about the naked guy tied to the bed. But it still didn't look so good that a customer came in, asked for her, tipped the hostess and then asked her to sit. They were probably coming up with all kinds of stories in their head based on countless romantic comedies that she refused to watch. "I don't think I owe you anything, but..." Defensive as always. "It's Ada."

--------------------------------

The girl had been passed the hell out on his shoulder, but in some point on a bumpy road she'd fallen down onto his lap. Her head rested on the thigh furthest from her, part of her torso draped across his lap. She...might have snored just a bit, and drooled on his pants leg some. She...she didn't regret it. Ada had slept through nearly the entire trip and it was after the driver struck a bump that jostled her some that her eyes began to flick open. She gave his leg a little nuzzle as if to sate an itch, and slowly pushed herself up into an upright position before she yawned lightly.




He'd amused himself with game applications on the tablet until his eyes had grown heavy, not so much out of exhaustion as much as long car rides just made him sleepy. He'd fallen asleep with his head tilted back against the seat, woken when she'd been jostled onto his lap. "She started it," he mumbled groggily, raising his hands like someone had a gun on him until he blinked hazily to his assistant in his lap. Still half-asleep, his brows had furrowed and he'd given her a questionable look until the notable snoring told him she was asleep. Out of it, he mumbled something about Russian circus bears before draping his arm over the curve of her waist and shifted to the nook corner of the seat and the door before falling asleep again.

He didn't wake to the bump that rattled his head against the tinted car window, but it was the nuzzle to his leg that had him blinking and forcing his eyes open. "Mhn, we there yet?" He mumbled, lifting his arm from her side when she rose to rub his palms over his face and straightened in the seat himself. "Ngh," he grunted, slowly blinking as he looked around to catch his bearings. Then crinkled his nose as he shifted and looked down to his pant leg. "....You drooled on me," he accused, plucking at the fabric of his pants that was almost stuck to his thigh.




One hand moved to swipe at the area near her lip--as if she could just get rid of the evidence just like that! She sniffed once and narrowed her eyes over at him, accusing him right back. "Did I? I think you just stole my spit," she said, and pointed and glared like, you owe me some spit! Though she didn't say it, because you couldn't...not without it sounding wrong! She smoothed out her hair and adjusted her glasses before yawning once more. "Mm...I needed that," she admitted stretching out some. The bones in her back popped and she scrunched her face in an unflattering way.




He glanced to the way she glared at him, raising a brow at her accusation. "And why would I steal your spit? I have my own," he crinkled his nose at her, lifting his chin in almost a defiant way before giving up on swiping at the drool spot on his pants. If she'd said it, she'd know he'd say something to make it worse. His own hair was a little bunched from where it was pressed to the window and his palms smoothed it back in place relatively easily thanks to the product he'd put in it that morning. "Yes, you did," he agreed to her needs. "You don't do it enough," he scrunched his nose again, but wasn't bitching - he knew who's fault it was. He made a face at the way her bones popped, shaking his head. "Startin' to sound like bubble wrap, darlin'. Do I need to get you a chiropractor?" The look in his eyes said he was itching to do it, too. Just let me buy you stuuuuuuff.





Ada made a face at him, "Because mine is superior, and you knew that when you tricked me into a nap," she said, and then wiped at her eyes. "I do it plenty..." Then she made a face and sighed. "Okay, maybe not, but... It's not my fault... Babysitting you is a full time job," she assured him with an accusatory glance. Then he had to make that stupid little joke about her back, "I was actually hoping you would invest in a new spine... Maybe some bionic legs.."




Letting out a sigh that was almost a whine, his shoulders slumped. "Why?" He looked at her in defeat. "Why do you have to call me on my shit every time? Can't I just get away with my trickery every once in awhile? ... Gawd." He huffed like she was just awful to him. He cut her a look when she tried to lie to him, just to nod and snicker. "That's what I tho-- hey," he furrowed his brows at her. "I don't need a babysitter. I'm a big boy." Sniffling, he lifted his chin. "Put my big boy pants on and everything this morning. By myself, too. " He raised his brows like it was a big deal. 9/10... everything that came out of his mouth was sarcasm. That didn't change as she talked about bionic legs and new spines. Scoffing, he rolled his eyes. "What do you take me for? Someone that can just... toss around money for bionic legs and new spines?" He looked at her incredulously for a brief moment before seeming to consider it. "The black market is better in Rhy'Din... and I bet you'd look pretty badass with some chrome hulked out legs. Might even make Chuck Norris flee in fear at that point..." he mused, then mumbled. "But then I'd have to worry about you roundhousing me when I fuck up.." He squinted at her suspiciously. "...Request for bionic legs denied..."