xp_logs | Jamie and Kitty go camping

For his birthday, Kitty kidnaps Jamie and takes him camping. They are, as ever, terribly cute.

Jamie settled the cast-iron Dutch oven into a section of the campfire that he'd piled high with coals; he built the coals up around the sides and onto the lid, sending sparks flittering up into the air as he settled down next to Kitty and gave her a quick kiss. "Half an hour and you'll see why I wanted to stop for apples. Nothing like Dutch oven cobbler for dessert on a camping trip." He grinned. "Now, how long has it been since the last time I told you I love you and you have the best ideas? I haven't been camping just for fun in forever."

"Oh, probably at least ten minutes, but you were distracted with playing with the fire, so it's understandable. Glad you like the idea. Figure I can't manage a present quite as useful as a time share in your room, but a weekend just the two of us sounded good to me. Well, mostly just the two of us." Leaning against Jamie's shoulder, Kitty shot a Look at the little purple form curled up on the otherside of the fire, pointedly ignoring her. "Next time I will remember to check the bags for stow aways."

"Playing with the fire, ha," Jamie muttered, "we'll just see if you say the same thing in half an hour when you taste the cobbler." He wound his fingers through her hair. "And a weekend off by ourselves is just about the best idea ever. Even with the stowaway, who is probably regretting it by now."

The muffled grumph from the otherside of the fire confirmed Jamie's guess, and Kitty couldn't help but smile. "Hey, poking fire with sticks is a perfectly normal, manly sort of urge, and getting cobbler out of it is just one of the many reasons girls put up with it."

Jamie tried very hard not to snicker at Lockheed's discomfiture. After all, the little dragon hadn't asked for a front row seat for what was, if Jamie had anything to say about it, likely to be a very affectionate weekend. Then again, he hadn't been invited, either, and Jamie wasn't about to tone anything down for a party-crasher's benefit; he snuggled closer. "It's way more technical than just poking fire with sticks," he pointed out mock-sternly. "You can't just pick up any random stick and go poking the fire with it. Has to be the right kind of stick. And correct poking takes practice."

"I'll keep that in mind," Kitty told him, turning her head slightly to kiss him again, just because he was there. "And we have found yet another reason why it's a good idea for me to keep you around - you are already trained in the proper fire-poking techniques."

"Mmmhmm. Otherwise you'd have to train somebody up from scratch, and you'd waste a lot of firewood that way. Not to mention all that time you could've been spending doing other things . . ." Jamie trailed fingers down Kitty's back. "Pre-certified fire poking is definitely the way to go."

"And you come with all these other useful talents preinstalled, too," Kitty pointed out, grinning. "Very useful, on the whole. Probably not allowed to distract you properly now, am I, for fear of burning the cobbler?"

Jamie made a mournful face. "Yeah, not burning the cobbler is probably a good idea. We should probably come up with something to distract us from the distracting until it's done, though, because you are way too good at the distracting."

"I'd say it wasn't on purpose, but it's such a blatent lie." Kitty grinned at him. "Right, um, distraction from distraction... We could... No, that's no good. How about... Um... later. Er... cards? Of the non-strip kind?"

"Cards would work. If you packed any, that is--I didn't." Jamie gave her a slow, curious smile. "And maybe after the cobbler you can tell me what the other ideas were."

"After the cobbler, I think that's a plan," Kitty said with a grin. "And you'd be amazed at what all I packed. I never did master the art of packing lightly." After a few moments of digging through her backpack Kitty produced a rather battered deck of cards. "Although, truth is, I just always have these in my backpack. Have saved my sanity during several particularl boring study halls over the years."

Jamie laughed. "I know the feeling. Mom and Dad always used to encourage me not to even take study halls in the first place unless I absolutely had to--and then, well, then I turned into the world's leading expert on too many hours in the day." He stretched his legs out, propping his feet up on the little woodpile, and his grin turned decidedly mischievous. "Care for a dupe backrub while we play? I won't look at your cards. Honest."

"Not sure I believe you on the not looking at my cards, unless you're going to steal the chance to just look down my shirt instead, but I shall risk it for the backrub," Kitty said, shuffling and dealing out the cards. "We going for poker again or something else?"

"Oh, that's just no fair." Jamie wrinkled his nose. "You're being all trusting and stuff. Now I can't look at your cards." He snapped his fingers, sending the dupe over to settle behind Kitty, and grinned. "May just take you up on the looking down your shirt, though."

"Well, you know, I figure you ought to get something out of it..."