fandomtownies | Sparky Repairs, Saturday

And that was Rosette grabbing the back of his jacket and pulling him back to gain on him a little. "What happened to ladies first?" she asked, chosing to ignore Chrono's comment about ladies even further.

"It's my shower!" He flailed. "And you'll use all the hot water!" He tried to block her.

Chrono had never really been in this part of Sparky's before and was finding himself a little fascinated with all the stuff and, quite frankly, annoyed to hell and back with John and Rosette than he wasn't paying any attention to them or his dampness anymore. And that's when Chrono met Goth and Emo, who came to check him out a little ~~and it was NPC love at first sight...~~.

"I won't, I promise!" Rosette said, pressing into John's block as if that would dissuade him. "You haven't been trying to shovel water out of a flooded church all day; I have! I need this shower more than you. The dorms probably aren't even damp, so you can shower whenever you want!" And she threw a pout at him, simpering, trying to channel the most piteous of looks into those wide blue eyes.

"I've been working on his boat thing, and I've taken it to teh chocolate shop and to ~~rescute~~rescue people from a church in crisis! I'm sweaty, I'm rainy, and I'm cold. I call dibs." He runs ahead and quickly shuts the door. And locks it. He turns around... and... sees that he's locked himself in the bathroom with Rosette. And a shower slash bathtub. He facepalms.

Rosette snorted. "Good one, genius," she smirked.

"You're welcome, braniac. Dibs on the tub!"

"Hey, no fair!" Rosette was clinging to the back of his coat again as though that could stop him from not only claiming the tub, but also using it. "Whatever happened to chivalry, huh?"

"It went out the window along with dryland!" He shucked off his coat as if to get away from her.

"Yar! Never trust a pirate in a washtub boat!" Rosette quickly discarded the coat, tossing it aside and making a lunging grab for John's shirt, pulling him back while she moved herself forward, thinking that if she got to the tub first, then he couldn't refute her claim over it.

JOhn did a spinny move that turned the both of them around, yet let Rosette in front for the tub, while trying to get his shirt off so Rosette couldn't grab it.

"Eep!" Rosette laughed at the spinning, her grip on John's shirt getting tighter as they moved. And then she noticed that she was now the one closest to the tub. Quickly, she dropped into it, legs draping over the side and getting really good use out of those slits. "Ha!" she said, gave his shirt a tug, thinking John had managed to get it off by now and therefor she could claim the shirt, too. "I win. You're shit outta lu--"

But John hadn't gotten the shirt of yet, so, when Rosette tugged at the shirt, it just sent John into the tub on top of her.

Oops.

Which would be the second time today that John ended up with a double handful of Rosette's boobs and a face in the crotch. His face, her crotch.

That...didn't even seem like a natural position in which someone could really fall. She chuckled off her nervousness, trying to get past the blushing, and she shifted back a little, as if to make more room for him rather than trying to get him out of the tub. "I..got here first," she said, quietly at first before it emboldened itself with her grin. "I win."

"Um. Rosette?" John said, muffled through cloth, trying to get a better grasp. To, uh, de-face her crotch. "What is poking me in the face? Please tell me it's not what I think it is."

"It's my gun," Rosette smirked, and then reached down to his shoulders to help him de-face a bit. "Never leave home without it."

"Wow. I can't believe..." He tilted his head up to look at her ~~past her huuuuuuge...tracts of land~~ "...that'd you'd be packing at a time like this. In fact, I forbid firearms in my tub. Don't want 'em going off prematurely. Off with the gun. And the holster. And anything else. gun-related." Tonguestickout.

Smirking, Rosette stuck her tongue out at him and return and carefully reached down to slip the gun from the holster, giving it a little show-offy twirl around her finger once she'd cleared John's arm and settled with it poised a little at her shoulder. "Fine, no gun," she said, "but I can't get the holsters off with you on top of me like this."

She said it with the hope that John would decide the holsters weren't important enough for him to move.

John decided that yes, the holsters were that important, and leaned back. Into the water knobs, which turned the water on, thanks to his elbow. And because John had rigged the pipes juuust the way he liked 'em (left was pressure, right was temperature instead of that sily left=hot right=cold nonsense), warmish-hotish water came jetting out of the showerhead onto the occupants of the bathtub. John, naturally, flailed.

Rosette's first thought was oh my God, water!

Her second thought was holy crap, gun!. She quickly tossed it aside so the water wouldn't ruin it at all, and it landed safely on John's jacket. Whew.

Third thought? Was to laugh as the water made her blonde hair and her viel droop into her eye and eyepatch, and she quickly slid them off and tried to see through the water suddenly in her face. "I don't think we're doing this whole shower thing right, John."

"I don't htink so either. I think we're too clothed." He tilted his head into teh warm water, letting it run down his face.

And it was that moment, as Rosette's laughing grew quiet and she looked over at John, the water washing down his face, his neck, as he tilted his head back that that, his shirt clinging to him as it went from damp to soaked, that a fouth thought crossed her mind.

It was a terribly un-nun-like thought, too, but that didn't stop her from following through on it. She reached forward, taking a hold of the front of John's shirt, and gently pulled him back into her, her neck straining forward. Her eyes closed against the water and her lips parted, eager to meet his in a kiss.

John brought his hands up to Rosette's waist, taking the back of her habit with them by accident as he returned the kiss, savoring it.

Rosette's hand slid easily around John's neck from the water (so warm, so nice...), her fingers spread out on the back of his head as she eagerly continued to kiss him, each kiss seeming to build on the previous one as the water made her head swim.

John's hands explored her back through the fabric, one hand caught in the hem at the bottom of the habit as he kissed her back, matching passion for passion.

As she arched into the kisses, Rosette became aware of how heavy the water made her clothes become, how uncomfortable, how awkward when she pressed her body into John's as her other arm snaked around his waist, ran her hand down his back. She was face with a conflict as her hand found the small of John's back, slipped under the shirt and her fingers found slick, wet skin, between how incredible this already was, how much better it could be, and how, despite all that, this was really something she shouldn't be doing.

Re: Maiden Voyage

Re: Maiden Voyage

Re: Maiden Voyage

Re: Maiden Voyage

Re: Maiden Voyage

Re: Maiden Voyage

Re: Maiden Voyage

Re: Maiden Voyage

Re: Maiden Voyage

Re: Maiden Voyage

Re: Maiden Voyage

Re: Maiden Voyage

Re: Maiden Voyage

Re: Maiden Voyage

Re: Maiden Voyage

Re: Maiden Voyage

Re: Maiden Voyage

Re: Maiden Voyage

Re: Maiden Voyage

Re: Maiden Voyage

Re: Maiden Voyage

Re: Maiden Voyage

Re: Maiden Voyage

Re: Maiden Voyage

Re: Maiden Voyage