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Two long-overdue monster logs, because it'd been a while since Sarah and Jono'd spent any quality time together.

One: Jono helps Sarah deal with post-airplane syndrome. She shares her cigarette with him, and he gives her a hug. No really. He does. Sexual innuendo abounds, because it's Jono and Sarah.



'Just follow the yellow brick road' had turned to 'just follow the cigarette smoke', and Jono did as he was told. It felt surprisingly pleasant to be outside, and it took him a few seconds to realize it was because there was no rain.

There may not have been any rain, but there was certainly cigarette smoke to follow. Sarah had gone through nearly a pack already since she'd gotten off of the plane, retreating outside after she'd said hello in a desperate attempt to calm herself down. She stood there with her back against the wall behind her, taking a long shaky drag from the cigarette in her hand. Flying was a bad idea. BAD.

Jono decided to make his presence known from a distance, hoping Sarah wouldn't want to use him for target practice because of the flight. He hoped her aim was off due to shaking hands or something. "Hey," he called. "I heard you were out here trying to clog your lungs with tar."

Sarah looked at him, both eyebrows raised, and exhaled a cloud of smoke into the air. "Thank you, Paige," she mocked, rolling her eyes and going back to her cigarette. "Besides. I'm less likely to die doing this than I am hurtling through the air in a large chunk of metal. And I've already done that today. This was next on the list."

"Piss off," Jono snorted, but didn't seem very displeased as he settled himself next to Sarah. "Isn't it proven flying is much safer than smoking anyway?" The glowing end of the cigarette looked tempting and he lifted his hand automatically to touch Sarah's hand.

"Who cares? This doesn't give me a nervous breakdown." She looked at him curiously for a split-second when he touched her hand, but answered her own question. She gave him a little satisfied smirk, and took another long drag off of her cigarette.

Jono blinked slowly, gleaning what little pleasure he could from his particular kind of second hand smoking. "Then why'd you come?" he asked simply, and held her hand still. "You're still shaking. Was it that cold in the cargo hold?"

"Because you asked me to," she said, exhaling and leaning her head back against the wall. "And Amanda asked me to. And somebody offered the boys chocolate if they got me on the plane." She scratched around the beginnings of bone horns on he forehead, and flicked ashes from her cigarette onto the sidewalk. "I wouldn't know. I was drugged and unconcious." Only her smirk gave away that she wasn't serious.

"So you had no chance, really," Jono stated, his attention drawn to her forehead. "Honestly, grow bigger ones and we can have bull fights." Then he tilted his head back, squinting at the sky. The clouds were still there, but seemed to be in a hurry somewhere else. "And tied up?"

She shrugged, following his gaze upwards. "No. I was pretty much doomed from the very beginning." Seeing nothing of any real interest, she looked down at her wrists and then at Jono. "Yeah, but the rope burns have already healed." She chose to ignore the horns comment. What was it with guys having a fetish for the horns?

"Figured as much, with your healing thing," he shrugged, then looped his arm around her shoulders, pressing them close for a second. "Thanks for coming, Spikey."

Sarah, taken aback slightly by the sudden closeness, blinked into his shoulder a few times before looking up at him and giving him a fond smile. "Sure Sparky. Just... don't ask me to do it again anytime soon?"

"Don't think I'm flying anywhere in a while after this," he assured her, amused, and let go. "I've had enough of this place for now. Sorry about my dad that day, on the phone." He ducked his head. "He just doesn't get the fact that the world doesn't work by his rules."

"That's okay. I'm glad you called." She took one last drag off of her cigarette, dropping it to the ground and stamping it out with her shoe. "Oh!" She dug in her coat pocket for a minute, and pulled out a picture. "Portable sandcastle therapy. I thought you'd like it."

Jono raised his eyebrows in surprise, and took the picture. "It's brilliant," he said, looking at it like it was a holy relic of some sort. "I don't-" he looked up at her, and didn't know what to say. "Thanks. Really."

She smiled, and gave his hand a squeeze (only later would she realize that he was still holding her hand after she'd put out the cigarette). "Consider it my apology for not being here sooner." Stuffing her free hand in her pocket, she nodded towards the door. "We should probably get back inside before they think we've run off to go do something bad."

He nodded, giving one last wondering look at the sky which was obviously feeling benevolent. "You had a beach to go to, can't hold that against you," he remarked, then turned to go inside, pulling her along. "Wouldn't mind something bad right now, but I'm all out." He only let go of her hand just before they stepped back in.


Two: These two should not be allowed anywhere near each other when they're drunk. Sarah and Jono dance, and prove that UST is still all the rage. (This is the first of the four clubbing logs, so before this, this, and this.)



Sarah's hips swayed to the beat of the music as she sipped her drink through a brightly colored straw. The night had been interesting so far, and even more so through the shot of vodka from Shinobi and the two free drinks she'd gotten in admiration of the skirt she was wearing. The horns were making quite a scene too, so much so that Sarah had reverted to lurking over closer to the tables, ready to sprint from the next person who recognised her.

"Does that include me too?" The words slithered into her mind past the music, and her own thoughts, some of which must've been loud enough to hear if you had an ear for that sort of thing. Hands settled on her hips, swaying with her.

She laughed, that same laugh she always gets when she's just on that verge of too much to drink, reaching back her free hand to curl around the back of his neck, and pulling him closer. "Not a chance. Somebody's got to dance with me."

He nuzzled her neck, unintentionally soaking up some of her drunkenness. "Oh, if you insist," he acquiesced immediately, not even thinking of saying no. "Too many people after your skirt and no one to dance with?"

"Shinobi keeps scaring them off." She took another sip of her drink, and looked back at him from the corner of her eye. "I lost him a while back though. I went to get another drink and got sidetracked." A couple of overeager boys and two drinks later, she was here dancing with Jono. Oops.

"Bad Shinobi. Not keeping an eye on you," Jono said cheerfully, pressing closer against her. "No biscuit." He slid his hands up her sides, then back down to her hips again. He couldn't help but compare her with Paige for that moment, and how they seemed to be made of completely different textures.

That had Sarah laughing, near-giggles for a good minute or two. That was, until his hands left her hips, and the resulting shiver and half-smirk took over instead. "Bad Jono..." she murmured with a dark look behind her, echoing him, "...'m not yours."

Her laughter vibrated nicely in his fingertips, and he leaned his cheek against hers as if to whisper. "I know," he said. "But you can't blame me; you're the one wearing leather and horns."

"Fuck. I'm like your walking fantasy tonight, aren't I?" She turned her head and tilted down a bit to nudge him with one of her horns. "Horns, a short leather skirt, and lace-up boots you could beat people with."

Jono nuzzled her again, thankful for the semi-dark of the corner. "Yeah," he said. "Nice of you to figure it out." He glanced around, half expecting to see Shinobi bearing down on them with the intent to kill, but no one was paying that much attention. "You look eminently fuckable."

And she laughed again, hips swaying against him, not really with the music anymore, just there with Jono behind her and a glass with melting ice that dripped on the floor and halfway up her arm if she raised her hand enough. "Good to hear. I'll have to wear the skirt more often."

"What? To tease me more?" Jono wrapped his arms around her waist for a moment, pressing against her back to feel the skin-warmed leather and the shape of her body, before letting go. He thought of Paige again, and how she was so impossibly full of light. "Not that I won't enjoy it," he added when the buzz of alcohol started slowly clearing from his mind.

"Of course," she grinned, "I'm good at that." Her lip pushed out into a pout when he let go, and she turned around, hips still swaying to the music. Finally she smiled. "Thanks for the dance Sparky."

"Dance and run, Spikey," Jono replied, amused, standing back. He swept his eyes down her then back up. "I'm going to go get drunk," he announced, pleased that he could, but not pleased he could not with her. It would probably be too tempting. He took another step back before turning and slipping into the crowd of other people.