Somehow it got out

Jaiden's apartment is starting to look like home again. After a good deep cleaning that took twice as long due to having half as many useful arms, the smell of pine cleanser and bleach has chased away the mustiness, the counters are cleaned, and the refrigerator is restocked with the necessities of life - namely milk, bread, and a few bits of fresh vegetable and meat.

He stands in his stocking feet in front of the stove, a griddle pan heating up, a pair of small steaks seasoned and ready to be put on once the pan has reached the appropriate temperature, another pot bubbling merrily with a wire rack inside for steaming. A glance to the digital clock on the stove shows the time to be almost eight…Delia should be here soon.

With a warrant out for her arrest, Delia's extra careful. No cabs, public transport when possible, and a lot of walking. Needless to say, she's been traveling for a few hours. Her bike went missing somewhere along the line while on the run so her mode of transport as of late has been the foot-mobile. It's almost dark by the time she reaches Jaiden's place.

She's dressed in casual clothing, loose fitting jeans that are ripped in multiple places, a t-shirt so old it's gone soft and comfortable, her graying shoes with the hole in the toe, and for a disguise, her hoodie and ballcap. This is what walks into the garage.

She's almost quiet when she lets herself into the apartment using the key he gave her, but she's a little too excited. The giggle as she comes up behind him and places her hands over his eyes completely gives her away. "Hey… Guess who?"

He doesn't really need to guess, and with the positioning of the stove he could probably watch the door without too much effort. Even her getting in with a key tripped a couple of things that would have brought her to his attention, but he spends the time straightening, then ducking, turning to look down at the girl with a smile. "Hey there Delia. Did you have trouble getting in? Any troubles on the trip over?" A hand reaches over to brush the side of her face affectionately. "Dinner should be ready in about fifteen. If you need to hit the bog or the shower, you've got plenty of time. I won't peek, I promise." And he winks.

The redhead wrinkles her nose and squishes her lips to the side in a comical grimace, shaking her head. "Trip over was great until my bus ticket ran out… then it was walk walk walk. Until I get a new bike, I'm going to have to beg you for rides everywhere." Or at least home in the morning, there's no way she'll make it before curfew tonight.

The hand on her cheek has her leaning toward him somewhat expectantly, but instead of the preferred 'hello', the one she expected, he offers a shower. "Only if you have a lot of pressure," she answers slyly, turning toward the washroom. When Delia disappears from sight, the noise doesn't come from the bathroom, but the bedroom. The pack hitting the floor, the fluff the clothing makes as it gets lumped in a pile, and the pad of bare feet agains the carpet. That's when the door to the bathroom closes and the splatter of water hitting tile sounds off.

Jaiden fights the urge to turn around - to see Delia sprinting from the bedroom to the bathroom. Instead, when the bathroom door clicks closed, Jaiden puts the steaks on the griddle with a soft sizzle and heads back to the bedroom to accumulate clothes. Gathering Delia's discarded outfit, he takes it over to the combo washer/dryer and tosses them in, starting them to wash. Thankfully the shower is on a separate water line that has almost firehose-strength pressure if you're not prepared. It's really hot, too. Jaiden apparently likes really hot showers!

There's a soft knock on the bathroom door, the knob turning. "Delia?" he calls, giving her a warning before poking his head in. "There's a towel hanging over the hook on the back of the door for you. Feel free to use anything you need in here." The bathroom is stocked with a nice assortment of shampoos (conditioner too? Jaiden?) and some soaps that a guy rarely would have. It's like he knew Delia was coming to visit and might use his shower. Thoughtful of him.

"Oh, and I'm washing your clothes. There's a robe hanging in that closet there for you to wear on the way back to the bedroom to get dressed." The door clicks closed as Jaiden goes back to cooking.

The sting of the water as it hits her body elicits a squeal from the redhead until she actually gets used to its needle prick strength. The flesh colored image warped in the pebbled glass, curls in on itself as though the woman is trying to hide from view as Jaiden peeks in. "Uhm.. uhm… Okay! Uhm… Thank you!" She can't see him so maybe he can't see her, so she straightens up again to face the shower head.

Jaiden's shower must be good because Delia spends at least a half hour in there.

When she finally makes it out, Delia's skin is red from the hot water and her usually curly hair, straight from the weight. It'll curl as it dries. She's dressed in the robe he told her to use, though she did have an extra set in her backpack. She'll save them for tomorrow. "Smells good," she sighs as she lets out the deep breath used to gather in the scent of dinner. "I'm going to guess it's not grilled cheese?"

No, he can't see her. Other than being able to say 'that's a leg' or ' that's a head' he can't see any details. Pebbled glass does have a reason for being set up as a shower door, you know. He does smile a little to himself, though , at the thought of her being there. It's nice, having someone here, with him, in his little basement. comforting, even.

"You'd prefer grilled cheese?" Jaiden asks, surprised, the steaks already out of the pan and resting to stay juicy, the vegetables coming out of the pot and being arranged artfully with one hand on a plate before being drizzled with a cream sauce. He looks down at the meal, then up to her. "I thought that it might be nice to have a good meal before enjoying the bad movie you picked out. I remembered you mentioned Attack of the Killer Tomatoes, so I found a copy…in 1999, and brought it back here. Thank god I have a VCR plugged in somewhere."

The robe is soft - a heavy cotton, almost a flannel - type material, hiding Delia's curves and staying closed with a built-on tie. He finds himself staring and looks away after a moment, with a blush. "If, after dinner, you don't mind…I'll comb out your hair."

Her lips pull to the side as she tries to contain the teasing smile threatening to spread across her face. Once his hands are free of the plates and pans, she sidles up to him and pinches a bit of the fabric of his shirt between her thumbs and fingers. She smells like a combination of some of the more floral fragrances in his bathroom. Different from her usual scent. Looking up into his eyes, the smile softens, "No, I don't prefer it… but it's something I would have made."

Her blue eyes flare a little wider at his announcement of where he got the movie and she catches her lower lip between her teeth. "I can't believe you actually got it, I haven't seen it since I was thirteen." Her soft murmur is full of a silent laughter as she interrupts him from finishing his final preparations on their meal. His request catches her off guard though and she angles her head up at him to catch his eyes. "Comb… my hair?"

"Well then." his arms come around to hold the robed beauty in his arms. "Next time, Grilled cheese and tomato soup."

His left hand moves up to stroke through the damp locks trailing down Delia's back, the man nodding. "Aye, brush out your hair. One of the things I know some ladies enjoy is someone to brush their hair, to keep the tangles out and to make it shiny. I'll have you know I'm very talented at brushing out hair, and rarely pull or yank. It'll be relaxing for you, I think."

It's probably just an excuse to be close to her, only separated by that robe.

Her arms come up around his back, her eyelids coming down partway as she gazes up into his face. There's a soft smile on hers as she listens to the smooth tones of his voice. Leaning into the large man, Delia hugs a little tighter just to pull herself closer to him. "I haven't had anyone comb my hair before… Even when I was little, mom sort of just conditioned it and let it dry." The comb, the bane of spiral curls everywhere. Very reluctantly, she pulls away from the embrace when Jaiden keeps glancing toward their dinner. It could be that she's worried about it getting cold(er).

Dinner? Fabulous. Conversation? Equally so. Chattering about everything and nothing all at the same time; the two laugh, share bites, and stare at each other all through the meal. He's a wonderful cook but she barely touches it, probably nerves.

When dinner is finished, Jaiden takes the plates to the sink, leaving them to soak along with the pan that he used to cook the steaks in. It takes a bit longer than one would think, since he only has one arm usable at the time, but he's getting better. Already after one night of rest and doctoring it's starting to not hurt nearly as much, and with the occasional dose of antibiotics given to him by Delia, the risk of infection is minimal at best.

It's when the last bit of dessert - Strawberry Shortcake - is devoured, that Jaiden gets to his feet and makes his way over to the couch in his stocking feet and sits down. The tape is already cued up, only requiring a couple of buttons for it to start running.

He's not expecting anything out of the night, other than cuddling on the couch. Maybe a little kissing. Is she expecting more? That'll be seen.

Of course she helps with the dishes, what sort of nurse would she be if she let him do all the work? Desert, the same as dinner, is barely touched save a few bites.

Curling up beside him on the couch, Delia nestles tightly against the large Australian, just like last time. Her hair, still wet from the shower, leaves a spot on his shirt where her head rests. Slowly it creeps, expanding the circle as she rubs more every time he squirms. Except for the fact that she's in his bathrobe, the scenario for this movie is exactly like the last.

"I can't believe you have a VHS player, that's like cassettes, they practically don't exist anymore." She might be teasing him about age, mostly because he was an adult for part of 1999… The remake.

She seems nervous. Well, if anything, Jaiden is comforting and relaxing and, as she settles down on the couch with him, his good arm drapes around her shoulder while his other rests in the small of her back; a surprisingly comfortable arrangement, all things considered.

His shirt is a simple white t-shirt with a quickly screen printed logo from some Australian bar band - picked up from his travels sometime, soaking up the dampness from her hair like a sponge. His pants are sweat pants, basically….black, his feet covered in socks. It's the perfect outfit for lounging around the house when dressing up isn't the order of the day.

"Well, the VHS I picked up from a local pawn shop for $10. The tape….it's well traveled, definitely…bought it new from a place that sold CD's in Times Square. And I thought it'd be nice for the whole situation….the nostalgia, basically. It is a kind of date we're having, after all."

He sighs, settling down on the couch, pulling her against him, closely, a mmmph of contentment escaping as he reaches for the remote. "Would you care to do the honors, Delia?"

When she chooses, the movie starts.

How much movie watching is done? Well…that depends on both of them.

Delia's hand glides along Jaiden's arm as she fumbles for the remote, not actually taking it from his hand but just pressing the buttons while he's holding it. She really has no idea which one is which and the first one pressed is fast forward, then record (thank goodness for copy protection), stop, and then finally play. When the whir of the movie starts, her hand trails back up his arm to rest on his chest.

Her fingers traces invisible patterns on his shirt as she watches the horrible little intro in black and white. Every once in a while, she whispers along with the dialogue, she's either memorized the script or it's that predictable. After about ten minutes, she cranes her neck to get a look look at him or what he's doing and her lip twitches up at one corner, just slightly. Her tongue peeks out a little, enough to glide along her top and bottom lip, wetting them. The skip of her heart as she's pressed against him and the blush on her cheeks are strong indicators that she's stopped paying attention to the black and white flick on the screen.

The good…or, rather, the most interesting thing about this movie is that you can literally step in at just about any point and pick up what's going on. Stereotypes are rampant, acting is hokey, and when the tomatoes attack, you can tell they're being thrown by people off screen - and sometimes you can even catch a glimpse of movement as a hand just barely enters the frame while throwing. It's cheesy. It's silly. It's the movie they decided to watch.

Jaiden is paying a little bit of attention to the movie, but not much. There's a girl in his arms, after all, that's warm and real and smells of scented soaps and clean skin, who feels right against him. His left arm gives her shoulders a squeeze, his gaze flicking from the screen, to her, back to the screen, and then fully on her, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a little smile. "So…" he says softly during a lull in the action on the screen. "Liking the movie so far?"

That, of course, is a rhetorical question as the man bends to place a gentle kiss on her lips.

There's a hitch in her breathing as their lips meet, the hot flush on her cheeks gets just a little brighter as she leans up and into the kiss. His might be gentle, the return isn't so much. It's starved.

The young woman's hand creeps up to cup Jaiden's cheek and then slides into his hair, her gripping just a little against his scalp. She's anything but shy right now and if he'd crept into her dreams when she was alone, he might see a picture almost just like this one. Except she's wearing a white cotton dress.

It's one thing that Jaiden is extraordinarily proud of - the fact that he has been called a good kisser. An excellent kisser, in fact, if the stories are to be believed. His mouth moves against hers gently, his eyes widening slightly at the enthusiastic return, before closing, his arm going up to hold her against him, fingers tangling in that long curly red hair.

She may not be in a sun dress, but she is in something white. It may not be a dream come true, but dammit, it's close enough for him. He had a few dreams as well, one of which while he was laid up in her bed after arriving from '99, and none of them even had a hint of things like this. This is perfect, in a way. The pair alone in the cool quiet of his apartment, without fear of being disturbed or frightened. Able to be what they are without fear of embarrassment.

Speak from the heart…. she's doing it now, but without words.

Unlike Jaiden, Delia has nothing of the sort to be proud of, everything with her is brand new. Kissing, closeness, a pair of arms holding her so tightly that she's left breathless against his body. It's different from giving your parents goodnight kisses as a child. Different from kissing kittens as they squirm and wriggle about. All she has for guidance are his movements.

She leans in further, practically scaling him as she tries to find a footing or place where she can rest against him comfortably. Half on top just isn't working. Slowly, reluctantly, she breaks from it, dotting his lips with smaller punctuation points before slowly opening her eyes. There's a puppy in a car…

… there once were three men having a conversation about how the Blob is relevant to relationships. There's a pause, which is something like the Blob representing a break in conversation. Let it go too long and it'll swallow everything. There's the car of conversation… and in the car, a puppy. The idiot of the trio called it the puppy of love or in the case of Delia, infatuation.

Somehow, it got out.

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