xp_logs | Don't Tell Sean!

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Late Thursday night, Terry finally decides to collect her prize from Bobby and asks for her midnight ice cream party. They talk about getting together, then they talk about not getting together, and then they realize that talk is cheap.

Terry couldn't sleep. She faked it for Clarice's sake when she realised her roommate was hovering but after that first restful night, Terry's dreams had been rough and her sleep fitful. It was almost easier to skip the sleeping until she was just too exhausted to fight it anymore. Once she was certain Clarice had drifted off into the sleep of the pixie, Terry slipped out of bed and crept quietly out to the common room. She sat on the couch, staring at the silent tv for a bit then with resolve born more of exhaustion than courage, left the suite and headed down the hall. She hesitated again outside of the other suite then rapped softly on the door and listened closely. When she heard nothing, she tested the door and, finding it open, ducked quickly inside.

Inside it was dark and she leaned against the door to let her eyes adjust. Both bedroom doors were shut but Terry still feared she would be too loud. She picked her way across the common room and knocked very, very quietly on the door then eased it open, "Bobby?" she asked, keeping her voice pitched low so she wouldn't wake Angelo.

The bedsheet tangled around what was obviously a quite naked Bobby as he sprawled on the mattress, fast asleep, the moonlight filtering through his blinds just enough to make all of this visible.

Terry squeaked in surprise and jerked back out of the room, closing the door with a little too much force. She covered her face, knowing she had to be bright red. Now what was she going to do? She couldn't wake him up now. It just...no.

But she wouldn't have to wake him up--the door had done that just fine. At the sound, Bobby sat bolt upright, tugging the sheet around his body. "...Who's there?" he called out in a low, tense voice, reaching for his com so he could notify whoever was listening that there was an intruder, if needed.

The wall weren't thin really but Terry's hearing was rather better than most. She heard his muffled question and for a hysterical second nearly ran away. Instead, in what was likely even further evidence of hysteria, she knocked again on the door. Just the barest brush of knuckles on the wood.

"Who's there?" Bobby asked again, still tense, as he slid out of bad, wrapping the sheet toga-style around him.

"Bobby? It's Terry. Are you awake?" Stupid question. Very stupid. She should just go. If she ran fast enough, he couldn't come after her. He'd have to get dressed first, right?

...Of course it was Terry, how could he think fate would be so kind as to send an intruder to his door in the middle of the night? "Yeah, I'm up...just a sec!" He dropped the sheet and started fumbling frantically in the pile of clothes on his floor, looking for the t-shirt and shorts he'd worn the previous day. "Gimme just one more second!"

Terry bit her lip. She was a complete idiot. This was the worst idea ever, all her friends were sadistic people and why was she waiting around here just so he could tell her it was all a mistake, pat her on the head and call her little sister? Terry covered her face again and tried not to whimper.

Bobby tugged his shirt on and rubbed his hand over his hair as he pulled the door open abruptly, frowning. "Sorry about that. Is everything okay? What's up?"

She yanked her hands away from her face and stared at him, dumbly, eyes wandering from his face down his now covered chest and then jerked them back up, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have...you were sleeping...I didn't mean...I'll go... it wasn't anything." Oh god, she couldn't shut up. She was going to die right now from embarrassment.

Bobby leaned against the doorframe, still frowning, although the tension was gradually ebbing from his body. "No, it's okay. I was going to find you tomorrow--I mean, it's the middle of the night, but--that doesn't matter...anyway--what's up?" It was clearly contagious.

He was? That was a good sign, right? Unless it wasn't and he was going to let her down easy. Except that you couldn't let someone down if you weren't dating them and oh god, now she was babbling in her head. "I couldn't sleep," Terry blurted if only to shut her brain up. "And, uh, you owe me ice cream." That was a good excuse right? If he was going to tell her that it had been a mistake then it would be a good cover. She felt, with a sudden certainty, that he was definitely going to say it was a mistake.

"Ice cream?" A memory clicked and Bobby nodded. "Oh yeah! Yeah, ice cream. Because you won." He stepped out of his room, pulling the door closed behind him. "You want it right now, then?"

"That's the point of a midnight ice cream party, right?" She managed to fake a smile, though it still hurt. "I mean, if you don't want to, that's okay. I can go back to my room and..." Stare at the tv some more. "read."

"No, no," Bobby assured her quickly, touching her arm and then just as abruptly stopping, "I said anytime. So let's head to the kitchen."

She just nodded, sure that she'd just say something else stupid if she spoke. Silently she turned and walked toward the door, hoping that in the dark it was hard to see her expression. She had a terrible fear that all her emotions were written on her face.

Bobby followed, enjoying the amount of skin she was showing far too much. He had to fill the stretching silence. "...So. Are we doing the standard mint, tonight? Or are you feeling brave?" because I'm sure not.

"Not brave but..." Stupid was probably the wrong thing to say. "different. I want something different. We have rose water, don't we?" Rose ice cream was different.

"...Rose water?" Bobby made a face. Flower ice cream? "I guess I can look." Not that he hadn't made stranger things, but still. Flowers??

Terry realised quite suddenly that he might take it wrong and tried to think of a more little sister kind of flavour. She didn't want that role anymore but... "Or you can just make cookie dough? That's always good." Totally different from the more subtle rose though.

Bobby shrugged, folding his arms across his chest to keep from slipping one around her shoulders. "Either one. We can see if we can find any rosewater, and make the cookie dough if not..." He was staring at her, he knew, but he couldn't stop. Maybe she wouldn't notice--as long as he didn't run into any furniture or anything.

She didn't notice; she was staring down at her bare feet and wishing she'd thought to put a robe on before going on this stupid quest. It had never been weird before to be wearing her pajamas around Bobby but then, a lot of things had been different before and now her tank top and shorts seemed…exposed. "Mostly I just wanted to collect my prize," she said as they entered the kitchen, "Before classes start and midnight parties make it hard to get to class on time."

"Oh." Bobby's heart sank just a little, but he nodded. "Sure. Good call." He pushed open the kitchen door and peered in. At least they had the place to themselves. "You want to check for the rose stuff, and I'll start getting the ingredients?" he asked, holding the door for her with a small smile.

She cast a look up at him and returned his smile as she passed him, though her smile vanished as she continued into the kitchen, nerves suddenly doubled. She went to the pantry quickly, searching the shelves, not too familiar with the organization since the redesign. She found the rosewater after a not too long but was faced with a problem, "Um, Bobby." Terry stretched up on her toes, the hem of her tank top lifting as she grasped futilely at the air just below the shelf she need, "Can you?"

Bobby looked over as he set cream, milk and eggs on the counter. "Oh, you found it! Sure." He crossed to her, keeping his eyes fixed on the bottle of rosewater, and reached over her head as he came up behind her--and then froze, glancing down at her--almost directly down, as she was right next to him. He could even feel the warmth of her body through his thin shirt. He quickly snatched the rosewater and retreated to the center of the kitchen, suddenly very busy locating a saucepan.

Terry stayed staring into the pantry for another moment, not seeing anything. Finally she drew in a slow breath and went over the counter. "So," she began as she watched him work, "why were you going to look for me tomorrow?"

"Oh." Bobby started separating the egg yolks, giving him something to focus on. "You know. To talk. ...About Saturday," he finished quietly.

Terry's stomach twisted though she'd expected it. "Ah. Um, yeah. I, uh, wanted to talk to you about that too. I, uh,…just thought we should talk about it." She bit her lip. So much for the glib tongue of the Irish.

Bobby's mouth went dry, and he was silent for a few moments, meticulously measuring cream and sugar and milk into a saucepan. "So...what did you want to talk about...about Saturday, I mean?" Duh. He rolled his eyes at himself and carried the saucepan to the stove, turning to face her as he stirred rhythmically.

No, not fair! He was supposed to be talking, not her. "I…wanted to know why you, um, you know." Terry winced, mentally kicking herself. "Was it just…I mean, why?"

A fair enough question--too bad the only answer he had was a lame one. "Well...I wanted to." Yup. Sounded as lame out loud as it did in his head. "I mean...you were upset, and hurt, and..." He took a deep breath and abandoned the ice cream on the stove, crossing to her and taking her hand in both of his, "And I wanted to take it all away." His heart was pounding as he watched her face closely. This was it.

She licked her lips and looked down at their hands, "Was that it? Just because I was hurt?" Please say no. His hands were so cool on hers though whether it was his mutation or her head to toe blush she didn't know.

"No. Well, kind of. I mean--" Bobby reached out and lifted her chin, tilting her face up to his. "I don't know if I would have done it, if you hadn't been hurt..." His voice gave out on him, dropping to a hoarse whisper, "But that wasn't the only reason I wanted to."

She couldn't breathe. Didn't dare, just in case this ended when she did. Her eyes met his and some part of her brain hysterically noted that they were the same blue as the lake when it froze in winter. "Really?" she asked, more just mouthing the question than speaking.

Bobby nodded. "Really," he answered softly, licking his lips and leaning forward.

And then there was a hissing sound, and a smell similar to burnt caramel filled the kitchen. "...Shit," he muttered, hurrying over to the scorching, overflowing pan of milk. "...Hold that thought?" Why did the universe have such cruel timing?

Terry swayed forward and gripped the counter tightly, finally drawing in a shuddering breath. She ran a hand through her hair and tried to figure out what to do now. It hadn't been a mistake but…they were such good friends now. What if this screwed that up?

Bobby chilled the mess that was once intended to be ice cream and carried it to the sink to soak. Burnt-on milk was going to be fun to get off. He grabbed a clean saucepan and returned to the island, standing there quietly for a moment. "So. Where were we?"

She swallowed hard, "Friends. We were friends." Her voice, like her hands, shook. She gripped the counter again, knuckles going white with strain. "What happens if…I don't want to lose that."

Oh. "...Then you don't lose that," Bobby replied quietly, ignoring the twisting in his stomach. It had been a bad idea, anyway. She was only seventeen. Her father was living here too. She had been one of his best friends for years. She was...a fantastic kisser. Shit. Eggs. Separate more eggs. Ice cream. That's what they were here for, after all.

Terry was looking at the stiff line of his shoulders, the tension in his movements. "Is this going to be weird?" She rounded the island to stand by him with the counter at her back for support. "I don’t…it was nice. Kissing you. But this could be really bad." She was trying to be sensible. Look at the long term. It was just going to end badly. Right?

"Yeah. It could be bad. Or it could be really good, too." But it wasn't Bobby's style, to push her. He sighed and started mixing up a fresh batch of cream and sugar. "But it won't be weird." It was most likely a lie, but if it reassured her...he even matched action to words, abandoning the ice cream (at a much safer point than last time) to pull her into a hug. See? Not at all weird. Except the part where his skin was tingling everywhere it touched hers--that was new.

She hugged him tightly, as she had when she was little. But it wasn't the same anymore. She'd never noticed the strength in his arms or the subtle spicy scent of his…shampoo? Shaving gel? Who knew? Terry tilted her head back and looked up at him, "Why didn't you come to talk to me earlier?"

Because he'd been torturing himself with hours of what was apparently pointless debating. "I was--thinking. Trying to sort some stuff out. Sorry." He should let go. He didn't want to let go. ...He didn't let go.

Terry was, well, fine with that wasn't really what she was but she didn't want him to let go even though she'd said herself that this was a bad idea. "I couldn’t sleep tonight. I haven't been able to. I couldn't stop thinking about why you were staying away."

Bobby rubbed her back lightly, biting his lip. "I'm sorry. Why didn't you find me sooner, then?"

She smirked at him, amused by the question, "Well, I'd been beat up. Mostly I wasn't sure…I didn't want you to tell me that it had been a mistake." She sighed and rested her head on his chest, relaxed by the feeling of his hands on her back. His heart was pounding, somehow that was reassuring too.

Bobby winced. "Right. But now you think it was." He just wanted to make sure he'd kept up--girls had a tendency to be confusing, after all. "A mistake, I mean."

"No…well, yes but no." She tightened her arms around him while she tried to figure out how to explain herself. "You're one of my best friends. And it's…scary. I mean it was one thing to flirt with you but having you interested back? I don't know what to do now."

"...So you want me to not be interested. So you can flirt with me without it being scary." Bobby's head started to hurt and he seriously thought about just pushing her away, making her stupid ice cream and going to bed. Maybe he should stick to men. "So you didn't actually mean it when you were flirting with me." Which is what he'd always assumed...until just a few minutes ago, anyway. Now he wasn't sure what to think.

"No, that's not…I meant it. But…I don't…I'm not good with relationships." Terry looked up at him again, "So I'm scared. Because I like you. And I wanted you to…see me, I guess. It's just that now I'm thinking about how much it will hurt to lose you. Nothing ventured, nothing to spend years in therapy with Samson about later, you know?" Not that she's loosened her hold on him at all.

"We're not even together, and you're thinking about losing me already? Man, girls are weird." Bobby sighed and tugged gently at her arms, needing some distance. "But I get it, I guess. I mean--that was part of what I was thinking about, too." And this was clearly not a good idea. If Terry was so confused about it, and he was so confused about it--no. Definitely not the right time, at the very least. "So we'll just be friends."

She let him push her away, wrapping her arms around her waist instead. "I have to think about it," she whispered. "Everyone I love goes away." Blindly she turned away, tears stinging her eyes.

Bobby swallowed and turned back to his ice cream, carrying the new batch to the stove. He couldn't even argue--he'd gone away, himself. "Look. If it was meant to be, it wouldn't be this tough of a decision, right?" He stirred mechanically, letting the familiar process numb him some. "So we'll take it as a sign, and just...we won't change things."

"Right. Nothing will change." Except that everything already had. They could ignore it now but it didn't make it go away. Terry sniffled and blinked rapidly, trying to dispel her tears.

Silence. Why was the silence awkward now, when it never had been before? "...Want to bring me the rosewater? It's almost ready."

She looked around and retrieved the bottle from the counter where he'd set it. She offered it to him without looking at him, eyes downcast, lashes tangled and wet. Once the ice cream was ready, she'd have a small dish and go up to bed, she decided. Or…fuck the telepaths. She'd pick the lock on the liquor cabinet.

Bobby picked up the bottle and poured a bit in, having to guess at the right amount. "Okay, how's it taste?" He blew lightly over a spoonful of cream, chilling it to near-freezing, and then held it out to her, looking at her for the first time in a few minutes. "...Hey. What'd I do now?" he quietly half-joked, spotting her damp eyes.

Terry took the spoon from him and shook her head, "Nothing. I'm just being stupid." She sampled the ice cream and nodded, "That's good." Her voice caught and broke. She handed the spoon back quickly and turned away again, "I'm sorry, I'm just not hungry anymore." She covered her face to muffle the sob she couldn't stop.

Bobby took the cream off of the burner and turned off the stove, then pulled her into a hug. "Shh...please don't cry, Terry," he whispered, petting her hair.

She shook her head, hands still over her face, "I'm sorry. It's okay, I'm just tired is all. It's nothing." She bit her lip sharply to make herself stop crying. This was awful. How could it all be so wrong?

No matter how he felt about her, or what they'd decided, Bobby was not going to let his Terry stay this miserable. Not if he could do anything about it. Of course, first he'd have to drag whatever it was out of her. "Bullshit. Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong. We're friends. That's what I wanted." She sounded as though she were convincing herself of it as much as him. "I'm just stupid. I need to sleep."

Bobby kissed her hair with a soft sigh. "Why are you stupid?"

Terry choked back another sob and scrubbed at her non-bruised eye. "I just am. Because I'm all emotional and upset but this is the right thing and I shouldn't be crying. Yeh agreed after all. It's just not going to work." Her accent, always worse when she was upset, made her nearly unintelligible.

He held her for a minute, silent, thinking. "...Does it feel right to you?" he asked finally, his heart in his throat, praying that his instincts were correct.

She finally gave in and leaned against him, crying into his soft t-shirt. "Nothing feels right."

"Did kissing me feel right?" he asked in a whisper, tightening his arms around her.

More than right. Perfect. She'd been half in love with Bobby for years. "Yes." Terry still didn't look up. She hurt and her heart ached and why was he pressing this again?

"To me, too." Bobby took a deep breath and pulled back, tilting her head up. "So if this is the right thing," he gestured vaguely with his hand, "Why does this feel right?" And for the third time in less than a week, his mouth was pressed to hers, kissing her tenderly, at least at first.

Terry sobbed into his mouth, her lips moving tentatively beneath his. Her arms came up to encircle his neck, hands still fisted. She didn't want to let him go, didn't want to do the sensible thing.

When she responded, Bobby let himself go a little, kissing her harder, deeper, his tongue teasing at her lips. I can't walk away from this without trying, he realized suddenly.

She gasped a little, in pain or in surprise it was hard to say, and opened her mouth to his kiss, arms tightening around him. He was right, this did feel like it was right. She had nearly convinced herself to walk away but her resolve vanished with the feeling of his mouth on hers, his arms around her.

Bobby continued the kiss for a minute, long enough to make sure she was convinced--and then a bit longer, just because it felt so damn good--and then pulled back, panting slightly. "...More than friends, then?" he whispered, still holding her tightly against him.

Her eyes opened slowly, the blue clouded and deep. She licked her lips and nodded. "Aye. Yeh make a good argument." She smiled at him, her cheeks stained with a pretty blush.

Bobby's heart leapt and he decided the best way to celebrate was with another kiss. So he kissed her again, sighing against her mouth--though he kept this one a bit briefer than the last. "Still want that ice cream?" he whispered against her mouth, unable to stop grinning suddenly.

"If yeh still want to make it," she said shyly. She uncurled her hands and ran her fingers though the hair at the nape of his neck, more for the contact than anything. "Do yeh have to let go to do so?"

Bobby laughed softly and nodded, a light shiver running through him. "Just with one hand, though..."

Terry smiled, "Then sure and I'd love ice cream." She kissed him again because it didn't seem fair that he got to be the one doing all the kissing here.

Bobby moaned softly, returning the kiss as he shuffled them both closer to the cooling cream, fishing blindly for the spoon with one hand and holding her tightly with the other.

Terry broke the kiss and rested her head on his chest, listening to his heart thump pleasantly. Just being settled against him was a totally new feeling different somehow now.

That was much better for the ice cream, although Bobby already missed kissing her. He smiled and rubbed her back as he turned his focus to the saucepan, stirring slowly as he cooled it, freezing it nice and gradual.

She shivered. Only his hand was directing the cold but she could feel the residual frost anyway. Perhaps counterproductively she snuggled closer to him. "You've got such good control." Her voice may have been a trifle envious.

"S'just practice" Bobby replied, carefully scraping the sides of the pan to keep the consistency even. "I haven't always, you know." And it was amazing what having your powers completely beyond your control did for your resolve to learn control.

"I've been here for five years. My control isn't anywhere near yours." Hadn't been anything like control at all, Terry reflected. Not up until Alison took her voice lessons on.

"Maybe mine are just easier to control," Bobby suggested with a shrug. "...Okay, it's getting thick. I either need both hands, or you to hold the handle so the pan doesn't turn."

Neither plan sounded like a good one to Terry as both involved less contact and not more. But then again, once it was done there could be sitting and watching late night made for tv movies as was traditional. Pouting only slightly, Terry let Bobby go and circled around behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and snuggling against his back instead. "How's this?"

"Mmm...both pleasant and practical," Bobby answered with a grin, gripping the saucepan and stirring. "I'm a lucky man." His hands slowed as he realized the truth of those words, and the meaning behind them. He and Terry had joined the ranks of the paired-off within the mansion. Really and truly.

The two finish making their ice cream and curl up in the rec room to watch a late night movie, but they get distracted by each other. Distracted enough that Jean decides they need a reminder of where they are.

...

Best midnight ice cream party EVER, Bobby thought as he returned the kiss, setting the ice cream off to the side as he slid his arms around her waist, dragging her against him with a soft, happy sigh.

Terry hummed, pleased and settled into his lap, sliding her other hand into his hair as well. She licked his lip, tracing their shape with the tip of her tongue, teasing him into parting them for her. Terry was a fast learner.

Bobby opened his mouth with a soft moan, eager to see just how far Terry would take the kiss on her own. He was careful to keep his hands from roaming too high or too low as they slid lightly over her back and sides--no point in ending this before he had to.

She made a satisfied noise and shifted closer. His hands were frustratingly polite though she could feel their every move through her thin tank top. She deepened the kiss, enjoying the bite of her still healing lip.

Bobby continued the kiss for a minute, then mumbled teasingly into her mouth, "Your rose ice cream's melting." His hands moved to her waist, resting gently at either side.

Terry eased back, lip throbbing. "Well, can't have that, can we? Not after all the trouble you went to make it, mad flavour though it is," she teased. She flexed her hands in his hair, nails scratching his scalp lightly. "My hands are occupied," she observed with a smile.

Bobby laughed and reached for the ice cream. "Suppose I'll have to help you, then." He scooped up a bite and lifted the spoon to her mouth.

She opened her mouth obediently, nibbling from the spoon daintily, looking him directly in the eyes the entire time.

Bobby's eyes kept straying to her mouth as she cleaned the spoon, though he did his best to keep his eyes on hers most of the time. "More?"

Terry smiled and leaned in, giving him a quick kiss. "Aye. I love...it." Best not say that just yet. She sat up.

"I'm glad." Bobby licked a bit of ice cream from his lip and scooped up another spoonful. He held it to her mouth, his eyes dropping to the extensive amount of skin bared by her tank top just before a large melted dollop of ice cream fell from the spoon onto it. "...Oops."

Terry gasped, jumping in shock. "Oh God, cold. Get it off!" The ice cream slid down her skin as she moved, travelling down toward the valley of her breasts.

Bobby's breath caught in his throat, but he was only following instructions, right? He quickly lowered his mouth to her chest, catching the drip with his tongue, and then taking his time following the path back up with his mouth. Rose plus Terry was rapidly becoming his favorite flavor.

"Oh..." She trailed off on an indistinct moan. Not what she had meant but she wasn't complaining. His mouth was only slightly warmer than the ice cream but infinitely preferable. She shuddered. "Bobby..."

Jean seriously considered just turning around and heading back upstairs -she'd woken in the night and the excessive number of wakeful minds had convinced her to make a quick circuit, checking in on people. But as embarrassed as she knew they would be at being caught by her, it was probably preferable to being caught by any of the other night owls. Especially as she could hear Sean still awake on the staff floor. There were definitely better places for the two of them to be doing this. She coughed quietly, trying to wipe the amused smile off her face.

Bobby's head snapped up so fast, it was nearly audible. "Oh God..." he whispered, sliding Terry off of his lap rather abruptly. "Uh..." He bit back the 'this isn't what it looks like' because it so clearly was exactly what it looked like. "...Nice night, huh?" He gave Jean a weak smile, his insides curling with embarrassment.

"Very nice, I'm sure." Jean was only a little evil, but she couldn't quite help herself on that one.

Terry was, on the other side of the couch, trying very hard to look like she hadn't just been on Bobby's lap. The rabbit's pace of her heart and the near hyperventilating didn't help. "Dr. Grey...um, hi. We're..." Why was there never a demon invasion when you needed one? "watching a movie."

Jean's eyebrow arched of it's own accord. Really. "I can tell it must be an interesting one to have kept you up so late."

Bobby lifted the half-melted bowl of ice cream. "Midnight ice cream party," he explained. Of course, this was the first of his midnight ice cream parties that had ended with his face buried in a girl's cleavage--but best not to think about things like that with the TP standing just there. "We'll go to bed."

Straight face, straight face, and do not think about the time that Charles caught you down here, Jean. "It's summer," she said, "not as though there's a curfew. You might want to take your... ice cream party out of the rec room, though." And they were both good kids, it wasn't as though she'd really need to tell them to be careful.

Terry nodded mutely and resisted the urge to look at Bobby for his reaction. The very last thing she needed as the inevitable thoughts that would arise if she did that. "Yes, Dr. Grey."

Bobby sat forward and grabbed the remote, turning the TV off, waiting for Jean to leave again so he could talk to Terry. And see if she wanted to go to his room (hehopedhehopedhehoped).

Jean nodded and turned to go, but the stray flicker of a thought in Bobby's mind had her turning back. "I assume I don't need to tell you two to be careful. Ice cream parties can lead to... ice cream headaches."

Terry turned bright red all over again. No, not looking at Bobby, not at all. Except...permission? From a teacher? Terry gave Jean a speculative look making sure she'd heard that properly. Because permission also meant that Jean could be counted on to make sure Sean didn't kill Bobby.

Bobby groaned quietly, giving Jean a vaguely reproachful look. "I'm always careful," he muttered, scooping up the bowl of ice cream with a clatter as he jostled the spoon.

Jean met Terry's look and arched an eyebrow at her. It would be impossible for her not to know that some of the students were sexually active, and she had always been of the opinion that teaching them to be careful was far more useful than pretending that abstinence was the only way. And she trusted them, these two especially, not to do anything stupid.

"I know you are, Bobby," she said. "I'm simply reminding you."

Terry looked away, satisfied with that response and thought virtuous thoughts. Not that it would fool Jean at all but it was the thought, quite literally, that counted.

Jean did not laugh at the virtuous thoughts filling Terry's mind, but the wry grin was harder to conceal. "Good night, you two. I'll see you in the morning." And she was most decidedly not mentioning this little scene to Sean. Ever. He'd kill her.

"G'night," Bobby replied, relief evident in his voice at her departure. Thank you.

#You're welcome.#

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>>>And she was most decidedly not mentioning this little scene to Sean. Ever. He'd kill her.<<<

Not a bit've it. He'd die for laughing before he managed it.