soul_logs | [Closed] An Awkward Sleepover

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[Closed] An Awkward Sleepover

Characters: Lily Ivory and Lezard Valeth
Location: Lezard’s apartment
Rating: PG
Time: July 5, early afternoon
Description: Due to a broken window and a sandy apartment, Lily ends up sleeping over in her partner’s apartment.

As if the sandstorm hadn’t caused enough trouble already, it left an unwelcome surprise for Lily when she finally made it back to her apartment shortly before dawn. A shattered window and a coating of sand that covered half the apartment. A sight which provoked a “Dag nab it!” that could be heard throughout the ninth floor of Casualty Communal.

Lezard quickly offered to let her sleep in his unscathed apartment next door and, for once, Lily actually accepted without much of a protest. The witch was worn out not only from the fighting but also a couple of uncomfortable nights spent in the shelter. And not that she would admit it out loud but she trusted him more these days. Three months ago, she would have flat out rejected the idea of staying in his apartment and gotten out a broom to start cleaning hers. And she certainly wouldn’t have let her guard down enough to fall asleep around him.

So, after washing away the sand that clung to her, Lily donned a Victorian nightgown that covered everything and collapsed into Lezard’s bed. She stopped only to glare at him and shout an indignant “No!” when he suggested he join her before pulling the covers over herself and promptly falling into a sleep deeper than she had for days. He probably could have sneaked in afterwards without her ever realizing it.

Now, the sun was laughing high above the city and early afternoon sunlight illuminated the apartment through dusty windows. But Lily’s eyes still remained closed like a Goldilocks who had found the bed that was just right. Perhaps, it was time for the apartment’s rightful occupant to wake her up…

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But the desert nights get so cold, he insisted! Lily wasn't entirely convinced, however. Damn. Though one might expect him to push the point, the indignant no and the look on her face was enough to send him into a laughing fit that demanded he sit and try to breathe again before continuing with his evening.

So that was how he had Lily Ivory in his bed, and Lezard took up the couch, an arm over his eyes to block out the morning sunshine as he quietly snoozed on the furniture. He was typically early to rise, but after taking down nearly a half-dozen kishin eggs and forcing himself to move through a sandstorm before, he was exhausted for once in his life. He was just a man, no matter how much he grumped over the fact.

Nicolas and Hermes, however, were always early risers no matter what. Lezard's pet rats, two active females with curiosity abound, had clued in to a guest in the apartment and had to know the who, the what, the where, when and why. With ease they managed to leave their cage and carefully climb their way up the sheets. Rather than the owner of the apartment rising to wake her, little Hermes stood on her chest and wasn't sure what to make of her, while Nic was having a bit of trouble being lost in the sleeping witch's hair, giving a small squeak of frustration.

Lily wasn’t unused to being awakened by non-human creatures. Back home, her familiar Oscar was in the habit of greeting her in the mornings up by hanging off the headboard of her brass bed so that his upside-down face was the first thing Lily saw when she opened her eyes. But a gobgoyle with funky breath was much more effective for waking up a tired witch than a couple of fancy rats.

She stirred slightly, turning her head a little and shifting an arm so that it was extended out to the side, the open palm landing near the furry white critter becoming tangled in her long wavy hair splayed out across the pillow. But her eyes remained closed. The frustrated squeak and the feel of tiny rodent feet climbing up the fabric of her nightgown wasn’t quite enough to penetrate the fog of sleep and the regular rise and fall of her chest continued despite the curious gray rat now perched there.

But she wouldn’t have been so calm if she realized what had climbed into bed with her. If Lezard didn’t wake up and retrieve his pets before she opened her eyes, there would certainly be enough screaming to disturb his sleep…

The sun's laughing fits tend to beat the need for any sort of alarm clock. A very light sleeper, it was that and his arm falling away, exposing his eyelids to the sun that finally had his eyes open, squint, and decide that he hated the daylight hours. You could accomplish so much more at night, if you asked him.

For a moment, when he sat up in his sleepwear, he wondered how he'd managed to wind up here on the couch rather than in bed or on his desk, his foggy mind not putting two and two together. How distressing.

But as he untangled himself from his blanket and finally pushed out of the makeshift 'bed', he recalled that he had... a guest. Ah, yes. The very best guest who he'd engaged in quite the argument with just the night before. Were he caffeinated he would have entertained the notion of climbing under the sheets and giving Lily a fright, but where was the fun in that, really? No, Lezard always craved a more roundabout, complicated fun. Like pushing her buttons.

First, though, tea. He needed it. But he made it two steps before he heard screaming, and stopped. His brain was slowly registering.

A brow slowly lifted. Was she forgetting where she was again, and about to storm in here demanding answers? Really, that woman...

Lily twitched at the tickle of whiskers at her throat, her sleep addled brain finally registering that there was something sniffing at her neck, furry but much too small to be Beowulf.

Besides, the black cat had found a new home with Bronwyn's grandchildren. So, what was that? Was she just imagining it?

She cracked open an eye and craned her neck, trying to see. The gray blob slowly came into focus—whiskers, snout, beady eyes—and that was when the screaming started.

Her eyes flew open and she sat bolt upright, trying to shake the rat off but the creature clung to the neckline of her nightgown. Several seconds of unsuccessfully trying to dislodge it later, she pulled at a sleeve, intending to throw off the garment and its unwelcome addition. (Obviously, she'd been too distracted by the rat to remember whose bed she was in and why this would be a terrible idea...)

But she'd only gotten one arm out of its sleeve when she became aware of distressed squeaks coming from the direction of her hair. Another rat tangled in her wavy locks and another round of screaming.

And if Lezard were to walk in now, he'd find this rather absurd sight in his bed, Lily flailing around and simultaneously trying to shake off both rats.

The screaming continued. With a slow sigh through his nose, he made way for the bedroom door and opened it while keeping the door as a shield in case of... something. But when she seemed to be trying to get something off of her and- after a squint to get the sleep out of his eyes- recognized the small white and gray furballs, he hurried inside. Damn it, the girls...!

"Hold still a moment! They've been frightened," he ordered quickly, and dislodged Nic from her hair, plucked Hermes from Lily's neckline. Their eyes were wide and their bodies were shaky; before he could pet them, they scrambled up his sleeves and tucked as tightly against his collar and neck as they could, seeking comfort in the familiar scent.

"They're curious," he explained. "And it seems they've figured out the new lock mechanism I put on their cage. They won't be getting their morning raisins..."

He checked her over. No bites, no claw marks... just a very shaken witch. "Other than that little surprise, are you well?"

Lily wasn't normally so squeamish, working with freeze-dried bat wings and snake sheds and other less than appealing ingredients in her witchcraft. But she generally didn't wake up to find rodents sniffing at her either.

The empty sleeves of the nightgown flapped around and she tried not to squirm when Lezard appeared, ordering her to stay still. Rats removed, she tried to get her trembling under control as he looked over her. When she spoke again, the words were demanding, indignant.

"What are you and your rats doing in my—"

She blinked. The sheets in her lap were the wrong color... What had happened, the fact that she was in Lezard's room and his bed... It all came back and her cheeks burned as she realized she had been about five seconds away from tossing off her nightclothes when he came into the room.

Lily ducked her head and fumbled, trying to insert her arms back into their sleeves, so flustered that she didn't realize the garment had turned backwards in her struggle with the rats.

"Do those critters of yours always like to harass sleeping people?!"

"...They're rats," he answered plainly, offering a shrug.

"I confess I always make new locking mechanisms for the cage, and they always find some way of getting out of them. On an average morning they stand atop it, watching me as if to show off their achievement, but it wasn't me in the bed... your arrival made them curious."

With that, he pointed to each. "This is Nicolas, and this is Hermes. Ah... I would have you handle them for just a moment to erase their current fear, while I get the tea started for the morning."

He carefully peeled the tiny claws out of his nightclothes and offered them to her.

"They've learned not to bite hands that can very well feed them."

"Yes, I can see they're rats." He had mentioned pet rats before, hadn't he? Although she hadn't thought to look for them with how tired she had been.

"But if they're such escape artists, I reckon you should have named them after Houdini instead."

"And you can't seriously expect me to play with them after that!" Lily eyed him, slightly irritated, keeping the sheets bunched in her hands and not reaching for the animals at all.

"I mean that they are natural escape artists because they're rats. Clean, intelligent, and quite spoiled little things should you let them get the best of you." Does he spoil his rats? Maybe a little.

"I haven't any idea who a Houdini is, but Hermes and Nicolas were named after alchemists." A cant of his head, a smirk. "...Are you surprised?"

"Ah, not play, simply to hold and ease their fear of you. Too much stress can make them ill, you see, and they've been far too useful to me to perish now. It also frees my hands to get the tea started this morning for the both of us."

"Clean isn't a word I typically associate with rats. Couldn't you have gotten something more normal if you wanted a pet to spoil?"

A raised eyebrow. "Alchemists?" Figures. "I was thinking you named one of them after the Greek god. And Houdini was a famous magician known for his escape acts. Getting out of handcuffs and chains, even underwater and upside down."

Lily grumbled, letting go of the sheets. "And I suppose if I didn't, you'd let them help you make the tea. I'd almost prefer if you dumped a pair of cats into my lap instead." She still doesn't especially want to take them but he could probably drop them into her hands.

"Hermes Trismegistus is an amalgamation of two gods, that of Hermes and the Egyptian Thoth. Together they formed a patron of alchemy, while Nicolas Flamel is from an old tale regarding the Philosopher's Stone itself. Truly, I found the names fitting, and they respond when called."

But Houdini sounded interesting. Research was needed.

"They're far smarter than cats. Cleaner as well." With that, he unceremoniously plopped the rodents into her hands and turned to make the tea with his own two very human hands.

"...But they make dreadful tea," he called back as he strolled to the kitchen to get started.

So, she was kind of right then. Although this sounded like an overly geeky inspiration for naming pets...

Lily leaned away and made a face as he plopped the rats into her hands, not bothering to answer his comment about the tea. She hoped he was joking about the rats ever helping brew his morning beverages!

As the critters squirmed around her her lap, she looked down at them and called after Lezard, "Can't I just put them back in the cage?" She certainly wasn't going to bring them to the kitchen with her! Where was that cage anyway? She looked around the room for it.

"If you must. Surely they'll bore of you shortly," he replied. The cage was settled neatly on a stand on the far left of the room. The rats had endured quite the trek to reach the woman, and though they shivered and bunched in on themselves, they eventually uncurled to stand on their hind legs, peering as tall as they could. Whiskers wiggling, it was rather funny; they almost seemed to be asking why she was here. He never had visitors.

With a click from the kitchen, it seemed the stove had fired up. There was tea, then, but there was quite a bit of movement as Lezard was deciding what to make for breakfast.

...Eggs. Were they all he had? Damn. Well, he'll make do. Who hated omelets anyway?

Lily's eyes finally landed on the cage and then she looked back at the rats in her hands, now peering up at her. But rat language wasn't anything she ever learned to interpret so instead of answering their question, she muttered, "How did you critters get all the way here, anyway?" Were they that nosy? It was quite a distance!

Shaking her head, she scooted over to the edge of the bed and stood up. The rats were nudged back into their cage. Okay, so it was kind of cute how their whiskers wiggled but she'd still rather not eat breakfast with them.

A quick trip to the bathroom to wash up and right her nightgown. And then she peeked into the kitchen to see Lezard at the stove although it was difficult to see what he was doing with his back turned. "I take it you're actually putting those cooking lessons to use. But I reckon you'd better be careful with how the power had gone out during the storm." She imagined she'd have to toss the milk and whatever meat was in her own refrigerator later.

"My refrigerator remained closed for the entirety of the storm and I see no need for worry. You are welcome to investigate the contents for spoilage, however." Really, whatever made her happy. But Lezard seemed uncharacteristically catty this morning, eyes still a bit puffy from sleep and his hair slightly askew.

"I take it they've been returned to the cage? Surely they'll know to remain at this point, seeing as they've likely cured their curiosity for the morning."

"Yes, I put them back." Lily was somewhat irritable herself after the surprise wake-up call from his pets and Nicolas' attempts to climb her hair hadn't helped there. The dark locks were wilder than usual and a few stuck out, snake-like, reminiscent of the Medusa of Greek myth.

A look in the refrigerator revealed it was empty other than a few eggs, causing her to glance over at him with a raised eyebrow. "Have you been forgetting to eat properly again?"

"And I don't suppose you keep any coffee around here, do you?" Probably not, considering what had happened that one time they'd gone out for coffee...

"Tea in the works," he muttered, gesturing to the silver pot on the stove. He opened the cover to bring down no less than six small jars of loose-leaf tea, marked in his awful chicken-scratch indicating which was which from black, green, or some kind of candied blend for rough nights.

But the remark on forgetting to eat was ignored. By now she'd know his silence likely meant 'yes'. But as he mixed the eggs in a bowl and poured them into a pan, he seemed wealthy with spices and various bits and bobs to add to whatever he put his mind to cooking. Whatever he was making was getting sprinkles of chives and ground black pepper.

"After our... visit, I've decided I'm not much of a coffee person, thus I don't keep it here. Will this be a problem?"

She let out an exasperated breath at his silence. Why had he asked for cooking lessons anyway if he couldn't even seem to remember to buy groceries? Although what he was cooking at the moment smelled good enough to make her realize she was starving. With all the demons running around the city the day before, she'd done exactly the thing she'd just been accusing him of.

"If that wake up was any sign of how the rest of the day is going to go, I think I'm going to need more than just tea." Lily picked up one of the jars, scrutinizing the label. "What the heck does this say? It's even more difficult to read than Graciela's writing when she got older."

She wondered if she should go next door and pull a canister of coffee out of her kitchen cabinet...

"The one you hold is my blend of black teas for use in the morning. I've green for the afternoon and an herbal mix for evenings, when sleep eludes me." He would say nothing about his handwriting, however. He could read it, and that was all that mattered to him.

"It can be brewed double-strength if need be, but what you hold holds enough of a kick," he explained waving a hand half-heartedly. He fetched a pair of plates and scooped that first helping onto one, moving right on for the second helping, pepper and rosemary. In goes the toast to go with everything.

"...Hm. Were it not for the storm, I would have spinach to mix in, and the entirety would be paired with andouille sausage. Spicy. May very well be up your alley. ...Next time."

She examined the indecipherable squiggles again. "You can actually read this? Looks like it might as well be in a foreign language to me." Maybe, he did label them in his own world's language...

But it seemed like she'd have to settle for tea. There was no coffeemaker in sight and hers was undoubtedly dusty and in need of a good cleaning. She set the jar down, sat at the kitchen table, and watched as he continued with the breakfast preparations.

"Have you been researching Cajun cooking? Andouille sausage is associated with it and used in some of the recipes." But she hadn't mentioned it yet in their lessons, having stuck to things like biscuits and muffins so far.

"Guilty, I suppose; I had taken your tastes into consideration. You've a taste for the fire, which in a way makes us opposites," he explained with the clearing of his throat. He wouldn't confess to a weak stomach, forcing himself to ingest some level of capsaicin to build resistance in the meantime.

When the toast popped, a light brown at the edges, he caught one slice in mid air and set it on the first plate before opening the silverware drawer. ...Fancy. Almost too fancy to belong in such an apartment.

"You may wait for me to finish should you choose, but if you're hungry you may start now," he said distractedly, juggling the pan and the poured tea.

"You dislike spicy food then? It's just something I got used to growing up. Maybe, I should skip teaching you some of the spicier recipes then." Admittedly, she had poured a lot of Tabasco sauce into his dinner that time so maybe an aversion to it wasn't surprising.

Lily was tempted to reach for the plate and dig into the eggs but was now awake enough to remember the times she had lectured Oscar about manners when it came to food.

Instead, she picked up some of the silverware and examined it. "These didn't come with the apartment, did they?" The pieces were certainly far nicer than the set she'd found in her own apartment. Did he buy them himself even though he seemed to forget to eat regularly at times?

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[Closed] An Awkward Sleepover

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