Morgan & Sam | The wee hours of Saturday morning

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After a night of dancing at Silver's reopening Morgan goes home only to decide that her bed is too empty. She bribes Sam out of his bed and into hers but a very. serious. talk. delays the fun.

The night had been spent on the dance floor at Silver. Morgan didn't really like crowds but she could deal with them when she danced because most of the people around her seemed to fade away into inconsequential blips of information. All the people became just bodies taking up space and radiating heat. Dancing was one of the few things that seemed to truly exhaust Morgan and she made a mental note to manage to get out to a club more often. It was nearly three in the morning, an hour which lately saw her waking from a night of sleep. She was just getting home, though. Despite help from both Laurie and Adrienne her apartment in the Brownstone didn't look lived in. There was furniture and even art on the walls but it didn't look like or feel like anyone's home yet.

The sweat was cooling on her back, the air hitting her skin and chilling her upon contact with the moisture beaded all over her and running down her spine in small rivulets. The shower was turned on an while the water heated Morgan grabbed her phone and hit a number that was more familiar in her head than it was to her dialing finger. Her shirt was stripped off while the number was punched in and by the time the cut off tank top hit the floor the phone was up to her ear. Only a miracle or a crisis would likely have Sam awake at this hour. For that reason Morgan hoped he would be asleep. Yet she hoped his phone was on and woke him up as well. It was selfish, but she was okay admitting that. At least to herself.

"Hello?" A groggy voice came over the handset. Sam had indeed been very much asleep. He was also used to being woken up at all hours by all sorts of different things. He could manage a response, though his voice still sounded pitiful as he forced his eyes open to check the clock.

"So I'm hoping you won't kill me for waking you up at an ungodly hour, but I just got home from being out dancing all night and my bed looks really empty and really lonely. I was hoping I could bribe you to be in it. Not that you need to be bribable. Actually you can growl at me and hang up. But I figured it was worth a shot. I'll even promise to make you breakfast when I let you out of my bed. My very large, very sad, very empty bed." Morgan was practically pouting into the phone by the end of it. Though the pout was just as much directed at the pants she was attempting to peel off of herself as it was at the phone that she was sure she was about to get a growling from followed by dial tone.

Sam was, of course, far too polite to respond to anyone like that. "I'll be there soon as I can get moving." He was already sitting up, then standing and moving toward the closet to get his flight suit. "It should be about five or ten minutes." The farmboy wasn't so good with nights so he wanted to get there as fast as possible. For him, that was very quickly.

"How are you with landing on fire escapes?" Morgan bit down on her lip, thinking about the time he'd gone and crashed into a tree because she made him nervous. She'd only seen him fly one other time and while he didn't crash it wasn't exactly a landing on a small surface. "Because I really need to shower, but I can leave the light on and the window by the fire escape open if you can land on it alright."

"That should be fine. I'll just climb it if I have to." She could hear the click of his phone going to speaker, presumably so that he could finish getting dressed. The fact that she was going to be in the shower made him curious. Was he supposed to get there quickly enough to join? He probably wouldn't, there hadn't even been much usual nudity yet, let alone a hot, steamy shower.

Morgan padded out of the now steaming bathroom to go unlock the window and turn several lights in the pristine living room on to attract his attention. "Feel free to collapse in the bed if I'm not out of the shower yet by time you get here. Of course, I'll likely just wake you up again," her voice had a hint of teasing to it. She'd wanted to see Sam all night, curl up with him to fall asleep and having a lazy morning in with him. Dancing alone made her giddy enough, but the fact that at three in the morning he was willing to crawl out of his own bed to fly over to the city to be in hers made her downright ecstatic. "Besides, there's a conversation I need to have with you," she told him as she kicked the bathroom door mostly closed behind her as she reentered the room. "And I'm not having it over the phone."

"Heading out now. I'll see you shortly... bye." It sounded awkward to him, he thought as he hung up, but Momma had taught him to always say bye, that was how someone knew the phone call was over. He bounded up to the flight pad, nervous more than a little with the idea that they had to have a 'not over the phone' conversation. He was off in a flash, now even more motivated to get over to Morgan's.

It took no more than five minutes, Sam thought, for him to get into the city. He also decided landing in the ally would be safer. He was already speeding along with some urgency and, while he was good at landing when he was calm, it seemed that when his mind was racing he ended up in a crash. This time it wasn't as bad as it hand been, he did end up running a few feet though. After a long, slow breath he climbed up the fire escape and slipped into Morgan's open window, shutting it behind him. It wasn't a barn, after all.

Morgan was still in the shower when she heard movement in the apartment. She assumed it was Sam and had to fight the urge to get out and be certain. Years of being paranoid was useful, but even Morgan had to admit when it was a bit too much. It was another five minutes before the water turned off in the shower. She'd actually considered chopping her hair off just for all the time it took to get it washed after a night of sweat-inducing activity. At least it wasn't down in the trenches covered in dirty and mud and small bits of person, right?

She came out wearing something very similar to what Sam had seen her in the last time there was sleep involved, a pair of short lounge shorts and a tank top. She was still drying her hair, foregoing its usual braid for now. Though once she laid eyes on Sam Morgan's face lit up in a smile and she practically pounced on him with a kiss. "Favorite person ever right now."

Sam laughed softly and caught her mid-pounce, kissing her back sweetly. "I'm glad to see you too." He had been pacing around her room nervously, still in his flight suit; this was much better. "I'd come see you when you ask, I told you before. You didn't have to tempt me with a talk or pouting or anything like that."

The smile spread wide across her face and she laughed, arms still looped around his neck. "Oh, but the talk has to happen and I really do make incredible french toast." She was ignoring the comment about the pouting on purpose. Morgan kissed him again before releasing him and finding the towel she'd dropped when she'd spotted him. Her hair was currently dripping water down her arm and she started to dry it off again. The smile, however, didn't fade.

With a laugh, Sam sat on the edge of the bed while he waited for her to finish drying off. His face showed he was ready to know what the talk was going to be about, at least. He had the nervous movement of someone who was afraid something bad was about to happen. Though she planned on having the talk and him staying, that seemed to be a very good sign.

Morgan chose to leave her hair down rather than tie it up into a ponytail or put it into a braid as she normally tended to. She went over to the dresser, hanging the towel on a hook on the wall beside it and plucking something up off the top of the smooth wood. She knew Sam wouldn't be able to see what the small braid of hair was from where he sat and she idly twirled it around her finger as she turned to face him and began to speak. "There are certain things I need you to understand. Things I need you to be okay with, sincerely okay with, before this thing between us goes any farther. You already know what I did from the age of fourteen to seventeen. I ended up with very strict feelings on things like fidelity and relationships because of my role as fantasy whore. And very strong feelings on people acting in any way like they own me or possess me. There are things I will never forgive because of the view that part of my life gave me. Like being cheated on, or cheating on someone. And I don't really think you'll have a problem with that. But a lot of people would have a problem with what I did afterward. I was sold, literally.

"Afterward I became a mercenary. I was trained by the man who bought me. He saved me, him and the rest of the guys. I've killed a lot of people, Sam. And I've done it for money as my only motivation. Some people wouldn't be okay with that and I'll understand if you can't be but it's who I am. Who I was and who I continue to be. And don't get any thoughts about how I'm so torn up about it. I'm not. I've shot kids dead because they were pointing a gun at me. Kill or be killed and I like myself more than I like or care about them. I won't kill kids anymore, but anyone else? I'm not even fazed. I quit the mercenary business to take the job with Snow Valley, but that doesn't mean I won't be killing people anymore. I mostly killed them in wars, but sometimes there wasn't a battlefield involved, and there's unlikely to be a war as part of the circumstances in the future. I can't count how many lives I took, but I can count the number of the ones I cared about taking on one hand without using all the fingers. Never mistake the fact that I am a killer." She paused, looking down at the bright orange lock of braided hair wrapped around her middle finger. Morgan gave Sam some time to digest that before looking back up at him and asking simply, "Can you be okay with that fact? Saying 'no' doesn't make you a bad person. And it doesn't take any respect I have for you away. But if it's the truth I need to hear it."

Sam did listen, very intently. He also thought quietly about it for a long moment. He wasn't going to say what she wanted to hear just to placate her; it wasn't who he was and it wouldn't be right to either of them. The idea of killing someone intentionally turned his stomach sometimes but he wasn't innocent on that front at all. In fact, he felt it to be entirely necessary at times and he also knew the people that did it had all sorts of view points from self hatred to emotional distance. So, even though he took what Morgan said very seriously, he also believe the country wisdom 'we're our own worst critics.' Finally, he had an answer for her.

"Momma would say to me when I was young that it's not our place to judge and I think that's very true. I trust you more than enough to think that you've made good decisions and that, since I can't ever walk a mile in your shoes, I couldn't begin to understand, let along judge, even if that were my place." Sam smiled to her, trying to b very reassuring. "I reckon that's the best answer I got."

"Just because it's not your place to just and you know that doesn't necessarily mean you won't or don't," she pointed out. It was maybe nitpicking the language because she was sure he meant it as a means of saying he could accept the fact, but Morgan needed pretty blunt language on this one. "Killing people saved my life. In a lot of ways. I will never justify the decision to take orders and pull a trigger when told as good or bad. Because it's not a good or bad decision to me, it's just a decision. But I need to know if three months from now you might decide that makes me a monster. It's not a view I'll dispute, I might even agree in a way, and maybe it's unfair of me to ask you to try to figure that out now, but it's an answer I need and it has to be a definite one. And it needs to be better than it not being your place to judge."

"You're asking me to judge you? That I can't do. I can say that my opinion won't change in three months or a million years. I trust you and you certainly aren't a monster. The fact that we're talking about this proves that." Sam was honestly at a loss. She was asking him to do something that he just couldn't. He had been raised to not do that and he had taken it so to heart that doing so knowingly was just impossible. He hoped the answer he could give would be enough.

"I wasn't asking you to judge me necessarily," she clarified. "I was asking you to decide whether or not you were okay with it. In more explicit terms than you used the first time." And now that he had Morgan pushed away from her dresser and walked over to him. A hand reached out and her fingers traced a line down the side of Sam's face before she leaned down and kissed him. "There's something else you need to understand." Morgan straddled his lap and settled there comfortably in an instant. "Changing bodies is like changing clothes for me. I tend to get sick of wearing the same body all the time. So I shift."

Morgan held up her hand to show him the braid of hair wrapped around her finger. A moment later she shifted, blue skin fading to a pale porcelain, white hair darkening to a bright, vivid orange and her red eyes fading into a jade green. "They've all got different names, personalities, ways of speaking, ways of acting," her voice had shifted, Morgan's Boston Irish accent dropping and the Dublin accent she used for Aoife slipping into place effortlessly. "But unless I'm impersonating someone they're all me. Respect to sexual orientation aside, I'll not have different rules for different bodies. Aoife's going to be cropping up a lot with working for Snow Valley. She doesn't exactly fit into my clothing so it's not as easy as just shifting back to myself." Aoife was not only considerably shorter than Morgan at five-foot-four, but she was a tiny thing. The tank top was loose on her slight frame and the shorts fell down low on her hips. "This is the other thing I need you to be okay with, I'm not always going to look like myself and in a way I may not act like myself, but it's all me. It stems from me and just because it's this small part of me you may never see normally that makes it no less true or real or part of the stem, the whole. Does that make sense?"

"It does. I've noticed some personality differences already and I understand as best I think I'll be able to. I also think as long as they can all like me then it won't be a problem. They are all part of you, as you said, and I like you very much. All of you." He qualified at the end, wanting to be clear that he had an idea of what he was getting in to. Morgan was wild and shifting and vivid. Sam wanted a woman just like that in his life.

"Aye, they all like you," she told him quietly. A very soft kiss was pressed to his lips, more gentle than most of the kisses he got from Morgan. "They all adore you, actually. Even the boys." She laughed and her laugh was like bells on the wind. "But I'll manage to refrain from kissing you in those bodies." She bit her lip and then kissed the tip of Sam's nose. "It confuses people loads. Especially names. Adrienne had issues at first, understanding." Her nose wrinkled. "First time I wore Aoife she named me Gertrude, her tattoo artist partner. Aye, that was when we snuck into me mam's house, stole everything of me from out of it."

Sam kissed her back sweetly, not seeming to mind the body change at all. "I'd be much obliged if they didn't." He fired back playfully when she mentioned the men. "I'm sure I'll get the hang of how everything works, if this meeting's to tell me there's a consensus about keeping me around." He smirked, holding back the rush of happiness that would come if she said so.

The whispered reply that came was a simple, "Aye." Aoife kissed him and in the middle of the kiss the mimic was dropped, her skin going back to blue and her hair fading out to white. "Aye, definitely a consensus about keeping you around. If you're still up to being kept, that is. 'Cause if you are, then I want to. For the foreseeable future at the very least." Vanessa bit her lip. "You up for it?"

"Of course." Sam kept returning her kisses happily, wrapping his arms around her waist. When she shifted back he nuzzled his nose against hers. Despite what people might expect, he liked her like this the most. Her blue skin and white hair were what he thought of when he thought of her and he adored her.

Vanessa nuzzled into a spot in Sam's neck she'd found the last time they spent the night together. Once her face was buried in his skin her entire body just relaxed against his. "I've this thing with secrets and full disclosure." Her accent had gone back to her own, dropping most of the Irish Morgan spoke with in favor of the South Boston she'd grown up sounding like. "Namely that I don't really believe in the first unless it's because of a job and that I believe in the second. I don't really keep secrets. I don't like 'em. Don't want any part of 'em. That doesn't mean I air all my personal business. Some things aren't anyone else's business, but that doesn't qualify them as secrets. But in the name of full disclosure there's something else I should tell you, and I don't tell you this lightly. Trust me, suddenly qualifying as my boyfriend isn't enough to make me part with the information, but you wouldn't be if you weren't worth telling."

Slight anxiety knotted up some of the muscles in her shoulders and back, causing Vanessa to nuzzle further into Sam's neck. "The name on my birth certificate is Vanessa Carlysle. It's the name on the books at Snow Valley but I haven't used my last name since I was fourteen and only very rarely used my first."

Sam grinned when she referred to him as her boyfriend. He gave her waist a soft, affectionate squeeze as he listened. Finally, he leaned back and looked down to her. "I can call you whatever you'd like whenever you'd like. And thank you for sharing that with me." He looked pleased as could be, grinning down to her now, looking into her eyes adoringly.

That look on his face made Vanessa smile and laugh in that way that never makes it to your lips but makes it into your eyes nonetheless. "You're and insanely sweet guy, Mister Guthrie." She kissed the corner of his jaw and sat up straighter so she could meet his eyes more easily. "You'll learn, if you pay attention, which name is appropriate when. Almost sounds like I've got multiple personalities, doesn't it?" She laughed quietly. "But when we're like this, just us and no one else around, and especially if there's a bed involved," she glanced over his shoulder to the rest of the unoccupied bed that had looked so lonely when she got home, "then it's definitely just Vanessa. Ness, Nessa, whatever. It just seems...wrong otherwise." Because names had power and it would be like living a lie to be with him and use another name,

After listening closely and nodding, Sam kissed her cheek and his grin returned. "Time for bed then, Ness?" It didn't feel quite right to him yet but he'd find what he preferred calling her. Nessie? Maybe not. Another squeeze around her hips and he released her so that he could start getting out of his flight suit.

"Hmm, I did actually infer I'd let you sleep, didn't I?" Vanessa crawled into the middle of the bed and flopped onto her back. It was kind of cold now that she wasn't attached to Sam and siphoning off his body heat like some parasite. All the dancing and the hour were quickly catching up on her without a focus such as their conversation and she suddenly found herself too lazy to motivate herself to get under the covers. Her head did raise so she could give Sam a look filled with mischief. "Does this mean I get another strip show?"

"I actually wore my shorts over, since I had warning." He hung the rest of his flight suit over a chair, left in just his shorts after a few moments. He climbed onto the bed with her, not quite as shy with her as he had been, but a light blush was still there from the strip show request and the idea that she was considering not letting him sleep. It might have been fought off further by the giddiness he felt over them being an official couple, as well.

Vanessa gave him a melodramatic sigh. "That makes me a very sad kitten, I'll have you know," she told him playfully. She willed herself to pull down the covers and wiggle her way beneath them as she yawned. "You could find ways to cheer me up, though, I bet." She grinned and wormed her way further under the covers until she was only visible from the eyes up.

When she slipped under the blankets, Sam followed. "I figure that if you want a show you'll just ask." He said playfully. "Or you could tell me those other ways to cheer you up. I'm sure I'd be happy to oblige either way." He didn't get as far under the blankets as she did but he did cuddle in close, slipping an arm around her waist.

Her look was full of mischief as Vanessa shifted, sliding on top of him. "I do like a man who is so happy to take directives. But, showing initiative gets you to move up the ranks quicker than just taking orders does." Her hands were folded over one another on his chest and Vanessa propped her chin on them, looking at him with an expression full of amusement. "Surely you have ideas of your own."

"Of course but I'm not in a rush to move up the ranks. I enjoy everything we do together and I very much enjoy doing what you want and pleasing you until I'm comfortable with things." The root of the cause probably was Sam's inexperience and nervousness. He would be glad to follow her lead for a while until he knew a couple things that he enjoyed.

Vanessa bit her lip. He phrased it like that on purpose. "So polite, Mister Guthrie. Clearly I should've stolen me a guy from the South ages ago. All passive and willing to please." Her tone was teasing and kisses traced a line down his neck between words. "But, maybe you should learn to be pleased first, yeah?"

"As long as you're teaching I'll defer to what you think is best... because I trust you... like I said before." The idea of her pleasing him made him all nerves again and that brought back his awkward pauses and unnecessary clarification. He even blushed in earnest again.

She immediately grinned at the blush and nipped at his collarbone. "Aye, and didn't I make a claim the last time you were in a bed with me that I didn't provide proof for?" Considering what it was she was sure he remembered precisely what it was to which she referred. "Maybe I should make good on that. Hands-on instruction really is the best method of instruction," she told him playfully, kissing further down his chest.

"I'd like that." Sam kept his reply short. He didn't need to spend any more time bumbling in bed with his new girlfriend, even though she did seem to find it endearing. Instead he was going to let her take lead and decide on the night's events. The idea of what might happen made his stomach fill with butterflies and his body squirm.

Vanessa smiled and stretched up to give Sam a proper kiss. "Promise not to break you, love," she whispered. Though it wasn't so much that she thought she would break him so much as she could read his inexperience on him like it were written in flashing neon lights. But she'd be careful to back off when she needed to and not push too far too fast, because that was important to her. Though the likelihood that she would move too fast for him was so minuscule it almost wasn't an issue at all. Another kiss, this one more tender, and then she started to inch her way back down his body.