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The Arms Hotel Lobby, Wednesday

When Jeff arrived in the lobby in the morning, he found Gunther sulking in the kitchen. He wasn't entirely sure why, and for a moment, he might have considered saying something. If anything, at least about what food they were serving.

Except maybe not.

He crept backwards out of the kitchen, quietly set up the specials board, then turned on the television. Beachview was on, and as long as Gunther was sulking, that meant he wasn't yelling through any of Pamela's lines.

Because that would've been a real tragedy.

Welcome to the Arms Hotel!
Today's Specials:
Crisps
Soup with Hint of Onion
Something Very Green

The lobby was open.

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From the sulking German chef.

Who is not in Mexico. Canada was enough of a trauma for the forseeable future.

Turtle made sure to swing by the hotel that morning to see Jeff because she wasn't going to see him for several days. For most people, that might have been a relief, but not for Turtle. "You've detached!" she remarked, grinning as she pulled her sunglasses from her eyes and settled them on top of her head. She was, as you could see, very ready for Mexico.

Jeff smiled at her in a manner that was both nervous and a little resigned at the same time. "I have," he said, "You know, in the end. I may have ended up with a bit too much blood in my head, but really, you have to expect these sort of things when you're... ... detaching."

Turtle's head bobbed in a nod. "Oh, I totally agree," she said. "Absolutely understand."

She had no idea what Jeff was talking about, but that sort of thing was not important.

"I was just heading over to the buses," her head jerked in the general direction of said buses. "Thought I'd stop by and see you before we took off. You'll get lots of rest and stuff while everyone's gone, right?"

"Of course," Jeff replied, slouching in his chair, "I'll probably attempt to sleep for a couple of days, just to be careful. I wouldn't want to tempt fate or phones or anything." Pause. "My mother still hasn't called yet..."

"...Isn't that a good thing?"

Jeff just looked a little on the queazy side. "She might be building up to something."

"But you'll know when it's her, Jeff!" Turtle reminded him, although she sounded slightly distraught. "Because of the phone I got, so if she calls, you can just ignore her! You'll just ignore her, right, Jeff? Right?"

"She'll-- just-- keep-- phoning," Jeff managed, but there was absolutely nothing hidden about the level of strangled in his voice.

"She'll give up eventually!" Turtle submitted, her voice a slight flail. "Maybe she's given up already, and that's why no calls!"

"That's what she'd like us to think!" Jeff pulled his mobile phone out of his pocket and waved it vaguely in Turtle's direction, "And then before you know it, she's phoning me while I'm in the bath."

"...Do you take your phone with you to the bath?" Turtle asked, arching an eyebrow.

"No, no, no," Jeff was barely inches from whimpering, "No, of course not. I just leave it outside 'cos I go a bit weird if it chirps..."

"Sorry," Turtle said, "I fail to see the problem, then?"

"What if there's a chirp and I'm not there for it? She might think I threw it out the window again!" Jeff took a moment to consider the problem, "And now I'll be thinking she'll be phoning all the time! I'll never be able to have a bath again!"

Turtle just facepalmed, really. She regretted ever even saying anything about the matter. She regretted it terribly, and felt kind of bad that she was thinking that at least she'd be leaving in a little bit and won't have to deal with the repercussions of this turn in the conversation.

"Oi vey," was all she could manage.

"There'll be virtual phoning," Jeff continued, staunchly. "It might not be actual phoning, but it'll be out there. Oh, thanks," he mumbled, ducking behind his desk.

"Jeff, are you sure you're going to be okay this weekend?" Turtle asked finally, worriedly.

"I'll be fine," Jeff whimpered from behind the desk.

Turtle frowned slightly at Jeff....well, at the desk, anyway, toward the general vicinity of where it was hiding Jeff. "Do I get a kiss before I take off?" she asked. "A hug? A good firm handshake?"

"A good firm handshake might seem feasible," the voice that came from the desk droned, before the hair slowly appeared, and then Jeff's head, "But there's legal kissing, there is."

Turtle was about to give that emergence of hair and face a stern look and a comment on how she was not settling for a good firm handshake with her boyfriend before she went to Mexico, but then that last bit caught her up.

"Legal kissing?"

"You're my girlfriend," Jeff pointed out.

Because that merited being pointed out.

"That makes it legal."

"Oh." Turtle had to grin a little at that. "I see. So that means I can get a kiss, right?"

And Jeff just had to grin in return, previous fear fleeing as he leaned his arms on the desk. "It's legal," he repeated, "No jury could convict."

"Nope," Turtle agreed, "none." Grinning slightly and maybe blushing just a wee tiny bit (or maybe a lot), she closed her eyes lightly and leaned forward over the desk to give Jeff his kiss. Or get hers. Or both. Theirs was an equal-opportunity sort of kissing.

Jeff's arms were quite scrambling across the desk, really, and part of him was absolutely terrified about the potential splinters, but that faded a way a little because he was leaning and there was kissing, and it was really quite legal and no one was going to do anything to him for it. He grinned. More.

Potential splinters aside, it was quite a nice kiss, so Turtle may have allowed it to linger a little longer than she would have necessarily deemed appropriate. After all, she was going to be in a different country, and wouldn't get to see him for a few days. So it was acceptable. And legal, sure.

Where large dogs and hotel staff roam.

'Cause we need one, y0.

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The Arms Hotel Lobby, Wednesday

Get Food

Talk to Jeff

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Avoid Jeff

OOC