‘Ow.’

Resting his now throbbing head against the new dent in the drywall as the wind outside died down Simon kept eyes wrenched shut. If he couldn’t see the mark he’d left that would make it hurt less, and if it wasn’t working he just wasn’t trying hard enough. The fact that it was pitch black just meant it should be even more effective.

‘Ow’

Struggling to ignore the pulsing pain behind his brow Simon marshaled his thoughts. Why the hell had he thought that was a good idea? He’d spent the last few hours drinking himself into a stupor just so he could avoid a headache. Slamming his skull into the nearest wall was like trying to put out a fire by dousing yourself in gasoline.

Grumbling inaudibly at his ill thought actions the elemental didn’t notice Isabel’s hand until it cupped his cheek, causing him to start and then immediately winced as his head protested the movement while the soubrette what? Chided? Pouted? Encouraged? He didn’t even know what to call it but he wasn’t sure he liked it. Where had he put his words?


‘“Eventually” Riiiight’ He drew the word out with as much skepticism as his inebriated mind could muster. Like she could actually, wait- blinking as his thoughts latched onto the word Simon slowly pulled his head back to regard Duskmoor, ‘Doesn’t that mean you like- ’

"Your dumb face would look so much dumber if it was broken."

And now she was back to being rude, and giggling. The laughing was not good. It made her shake and because he was leaning on her it made him shake and his head very much wanted to not be moving.

His arms moved almost on reflex, one hand tracing against her side until it gripped her hip while the other aimed for her shoulder in an effort to keep her still. If anything though this only made her giggling worse, leaving her out of breath as she struggled to form words.

This wasn’t working, and it wasn’t making his aching skull any better. She was laughing too much to listen and he could barely make out what she was saying. He needed to try something else.

"...smoosh face!"

So he did, and as his lips met hers he tried to remember if she’d always tasted like grapes.

It was hard to hear anything Zephyr was saying over the sound of her own laughter. Not that Isabel ever really cared what he had to say. The mental image of his busted faced was much more interesting anyway.

The tickling fingers around her waist certainly weren't helping, either, only making her wriggle on top of laugh-shaking. There wasn't anywhere to wriggle to, though, leaving her to squirm in place stuck between Zephyr and the wall while her laughter hit an even higher pitch. It sounded loud even to her ears in the small space, especially once the wind outside the small room died down.

And then suddenly things were very quiet and even more closed in than she'd thought possible. No more wiggling and squirming or laughing, but instead a quickly rising heat and the sound of her speeding heart in her ears and trying to catch her breath through her nose.

Once her head had stopped spinning she dropped her hands to his shoulders (when had her arms wound up around his neck?) and gave them a push, leaning her head back against the wall behind her. "Uh-uh. Nope, no way. This is danger bad, nope no," she said, shaking her head and trying to slide out from between the rock and the hard place and reach the door. "No more of that, nope, the dusty thing is over and it's shower time now buh bye."

Sudden blessed, silence. It was hard to overstate how much that helped an aching head, perhaps especially a self inflicted one. Isabel had been laughing so hard she’d been shaking and in the closed space the sound had felt like it had nowhere to go except the center of his skull.

Then he’d leaned in and she’d simply.. stopped. He thought he’d heard a half gasp and felt her stiffen slightly under his hands, but he’d been distracted when he found that she tasted like fine and trying to decide if that was better or worse than the cinnamon he remembered from before.

Isabel seemed to make up her mind far more quickly though as she relaxed and wrapped her arms around his neck, one hand going to the back of his head and pulling him closer until they were pressed tight enough that he could feel the rhythm of her pulse through his chest, or maybe it was his? It was hard to tell, but he dimly realized that, whoever it belong to, it was rapidly rising in tempo.

That wasn’t a good thing, or was it? He still didn’t know if it was his or Isabel's and he couldn’t really ask while she kept the kiss going. Not that it was bad, words just didn’t work that way. Still they’d probably have to stop at some point, much as he liked the flavour it did make breathing more complicated, and that was important.

Just as he reached that thought he felt Isabel release the back of his head as she dropped her hands to shoulders, giving him a slight push, letting him take less than a step back and lean against one side of the closet door to give them both a chance to breathe.

"Uh-uh. Nope, no way. This is danger bad, nope no."

The brunettes words came with much shaking of her head that Simon could almost hear the swishing of her hair. He wasn’t quite sure what she meant by ‘danger bad’. It seemed an odd thing to say considering how long she’d kept the kiss going. How could kisses be dangerous anyway? After all the last time they’d-

…

Alright, so maybe kissing hadn’t been the best idea, and now he needed another distraction from the reminder of what happened last time, but everything was fine. They’d both managed to stop and there was still clothing in place, even if it was still slightly damp in places.

So in short, his idea had worked.

“I- right, ‘smooshing’ is dangerous”

"No more of that, nope, the dusty thing is over and it's shower time now buh bye."

Isabel’s following words would have been far more convincing if she hadn’t then immediately tried to step into the corner he was resting in and caught her foot on his so that she nearly fell against him. As it was, they both threw out their arms to try and catch each other, and for the second time in less than minute Simon found himself nose to nose with Isabel.

‘Issie, isn’t this more dangerous?’ His mouth hardly moved as he spoke, not knowing how much it would take for his lips to meet hers only that there was nowhere else for him to go. ‘I don’t th-’

Whether it was due to disuse, shoddy workmanship or pure chance, the door they’d both ended up leaning against picked that moment to suddenly fall open and Simon found himself stumbling back into the bedroom with Isabel in his arms.

So sliding for the door hadn't worked. At all. Everything was going in the exact opposite direction from what Isabel had hoped. Her breath caught in her throat a they were caught in a tangle of arms and she could feel the air moving against her face from Zephyr's quietly spoken words. It was much, much too hot in such a tiny space. Had she been able to register the dampness of their clothes she might have been surprised that they hadn't already dried from the heat. She couldn't seem to make her fingers uncurl and release the front of his shirt. Much too hot.

Then there was that ominous creaking just before the closet door finally gave way under their combined weight. The world felt as if it spun and vanished under the sensation of falling. Zephyr almost seemed to catch himself, but then the stray clothing on the floor altered their plans yet again and the both of them went tumbling to the floor in a jumble of limbs, curses, and squawks.

Mercifully she wound up on the top of the pile, waiting for her head to stop spinning so violently before she attempted to move. But it was very hard to make her head stop spinning completely when she was having such an intense feeling of deja vu. They were still much too close, the room still felt much too hot. Or maybe it was just her.

Once she felt stable enough to start getting up, she began to do so as quickly as she could manage while untangling from the young man's grip and desperately trying to avoid getting caught in any more of the clothing on the floor. "Danger bad, very, very bad dangerous," she continued to protest once she'd found her voice again. She felt like she should be shouting to be heard over the sound of her pounding heart, but she could barely manage more than a whisper.

"Shower now for real okay bye." Scrambling to her feet none too gently, she swept her hand across the ground and grabbed the first few items of clothing it found. She could worry about figuring out what she'd grabbed later. For now she was busy beating an almost hasty retreat to the bathroom where she could put a locked door between herself and the whole situation.

Falling was not new sensation, he’d already done it two- no wait, this made it three, times tonight. Wasn’t the third time meant to be the charm? He should get a hand hold or something to stop his fall by default. Even as the thought occurred he felt the door frame slip from his grasp before his other hand frantically grabbed for the handle, halting them for a single moment before the door continued to swing open, adding a spin to their movement as they fell out of the closet, his arms wrapping reflexively around Isabel as she clung to him like a limpet.

Huh, maybe the third time was-

He hit the floor. The impact sending a shock through his right shoulder even as momentum sent him rolling. For a handful of moments up and down were the same as he tumbled over the floor, leaving him dazed and winded so when he finally did stop the hessian had no desire to move.

Quite the contrary actually; standing would only have him fall down again. Much simpler to just save himself the trouble and stay where he was, at least until he caught his breath. The fact that he had a buxom brunette laying on top of him and couldn’t move if he wanted too, only served to reinforce his decision.

As he gradually began to get his wits back though and took stock of the still pitch black room Simon once again became aware of the dull throbbing in his skull, now accompanied by humming ache in his shoulder that didn’t seem to harmonize so much as quarrel with each other.

He needed another drink.

Annoyingly, he was also having trouble getting his breath back because, while there were many words one could use to describe Sanctuary’s poster girl, ‘light’ was not one of them. Curves carried weight, in more ways than one, and the shapely soubrette had her fair share and then some.

On the upside he could make out the… ‘handmade’(?) basket Isabel had carelessly left by the wayside and it still held several unopened bottles. Unfortunately the hand closest to the basket was trapped between the brunettes arm and side and the girl wasn’t showing any indication of moving in the immediate future. In fact she was still treating him like an oversized teddy bear which was strange because she’d said that was dangerous, then she kept doing it.

It was confusing, but that was fine because he had an idea.

He had two hands after all and only one was trapped. The other had slipped under her tank top to rest in the middle her back. Shifting his wrist slightly he began trailing the fingers of his free hand down her spine until he reached-

"Danger bad, very, very bad dangerous,"

-and there she went, those were almost the exact same words too though she seemed to be having trouble with them. Maybe she was stuck in a loop? He’d ask her when he got his breath back, and had a drink, or two.

On that note...

Sitting against the foot of the bed Simon enjoyed another sip of the bottle he’d liberated welcoming the warm haze it brought to cushion his mind against the dull ache in his head. He didn’t recall spotting cider in the cellar earlier but then again he still wasn’t quite sure how he’d ended up down here with Isabel and it was a rabbit hole he’d rather not venture down in any case.

Speaking of the soubrette, he’d been watching her stumble awkwardly around the room for the last few minutes?, moments,... For last little while, and she really didn’t seem to be making much progress. To be fair she was technically blind and the clothes she’d scattered around the room didn’t help matters, causing her to trip and then hop like a newborn bunny as she tried not to fall.

She wasn’t doing very well.

After one particularly hilarious unfortunate effort which left the brunette slumped against the wall and left him laughing coughing, Simon decided to take pity on her and rose unsteadily to his feet, leaning heavily against the wall as he steadily made his way over, taking care to make plenty of noise as he did. A jumpy Issie did not enjoy being surprised after all.

"Cider?” He offered, resting the bottle lightly on her shoulder after having crouched down against the wall beside her. All that jumping and flailing looked like thirsty work. If she hadn’t needed a shower before she probably did now.

Huh, she had mentioned something about that hadn’t she? Something about dust and spilt drinks. His shirt was still damp as well come to think of it.

"Showers the other way." He added helpfully, resting his hands on knees as he debated whether it was worth trying to stand up again. He didn’t have a good track record with it right now. "I can help you get there if you want a hand.” Probably. Maybe. If he didn’t fall over.

Trying to rush through the room in the dark hadn't been the best idea, but in her panic she hadn't exactly been thinking about that particular difficulty. Why exactly had she thought it necessary to throw a closet's worth of clothes all over the floor? And how the hell did every single piece of it somehow manage to wind up underfoot? Navigating a room while blind was bad enough without tripping and stumbling every few steps. At least she managed not to fall.

Right up until one of the walls came out of nowhere. All her momentum was immediately halted in a painful way. At least her arms, wrapped around a bundle of clothing, had hit the wall first and afforded her the split second needed to turn her head and avoid smashing her nose into her face. Instead she'd rammed a cheek into the wall with an unpleasant crack, the force of it making her eyes water and her head spin. She had to sit for a moment after that collision, using the assaulting wall as a guide back down to the floor.

Blindly running her fingers over her stinging cheek to check for scrapes or splits in the skin she almost didn't hear Zephyr approaching until he was a few steps away. "Yes please," she groaned, accepting the offered bottle as he slid down next to her. Gingerly she placed the bottle against her hot cheek for a moment before giving up the room temperature bottle as not cold enough and settling for drinking it instead.

Isabel couldn't remember the last time she'd had cider, but she enjoyed it very much. So much easier to drink that vodka and a nice change from all the wine she'd already downed. If there was more stashed in the cellar she'd have to try and remember it later on so she could raid it for more another time.

She made a noncommittal noise and tipped the bottle as Zephyr, ever helpful, pointed out that she'd been struggle in the wrong direction the entire time. Figures. Too bad he couldn't have pointed it out before she'd smashed her face all over the wall. He probably thought she deserved it, or was getting back at her for any number of reasons. She'd remember that. Probably. Maybe.

The offer to lead her to the shower went unanswered for a long moment as she tried to weigh her options and took another long drink. It was hard to think with a hurting head caught up in a hazy spin. Wanting to actually get into the shower seemed more important than how she actually got there and letting Zephyr help would get her there that much faster.

"Yeah okay, help me with the shower," she finally replied, swapping the cider into her other hand and shuffling the clothing under the same arm so she would have a free hand to hold on to the young man. Standing up with a wobble she tugged him upward too, eager to finally start moving in the right direction. "C'mon, lessgo." What could possibly go wrong?

Sitting was a woefully under appreciated activity, it let you rest, collect your thoughts and didn’t make the floor sway disconcertingly from side to side. Granted, Simon still wasn’t sure how that was happening given he could feel the ground staying perfectly quiescent but that was a matter for another time when he had less pressing matters to deal with.

For example, figuring out how to get the cider back before Isabel drained the remainder of the bottle. He’d offered it to her yes, but he hadn’t quite expected her to drain it like a marooned sailor. Letting out a silent sigh he watched through his spatial awareness as the soubrettes silhouette tilted the glass up for a second swig as she seemed to debate his offer.

Maybe he could just ask for it back? Stranger things had happened after all.

"Yeah okay, help me with the shower,"

Any further thought on the matter was unceremoniously cut as Isabel off clutched his hand and hauled both of them upright. The two of them stumbling for a moment before leaning on each other as they waited for the sudden sense of vertigo to fade. Thankfully the feeling passed quickly but it was still far from pleasant and took him a few moments to gather his bearings as he oriented himself.

“C'mon, lessgo." Duskmoor however had no such hesitation, immediately trying to set off across the room only for Simon to quietly dig in his heels as he leaned back against the wall, bringing the girls charge to an abrupt halt.

“S’ not nice t’ drag me ‘round Issie’ He chided with a teasing tone, the soubrettes balance wavering before he caught her with his free arm and left them both against the wall. “Sides, s’ hard to help if ‘m pulled around, now..” Quietly relieving the brunette of the cider Simon placed her free hand on the wall for balance before guiding her along. “hold ‘on an follow me”

Shoulder braced against the wall the hessian led the way around room almost casually, almost passing for sober if one ignored the fact it took him multiple attempts to boot the occasional pile of clothes aside. That wasn’t important though.

What was important was that they’d finally found a shower, or at least, something with a shower shaped silhouette. It could have been a watering can poking through the drywall for all he knew; spatial awareness was not the same as actual sight, but as Isabel stumbled into the back of him part of the elemental reflected that the difference was probably for the best.

He’d be far more distracted if it wasn’t.

Still it was time for the moment of truth, pushing aside the shower curtain the hessian began testing the handles set into the tiled wall, ears pricking as he heard the slight rumble of the pipes but without any result. Frowning he twisted the handles further, eliciting a further strained groan from the pipes before they finally gave up the ghost and water burst forth.

In hindsight he really should have closed the shower curtain first.

Isabel pouted and grumbled when she felt the bottle of cider leave her hand. Sharing hadn't been something she'd intended on doing, but since she needed Zephyr's assistance if she was ever going to make it into a shower before morning she'd have to let it go. She wouldn't put it past him to lead her into another wall if she'd refused. He might still lead her into another wall anyway. But at least she had something to follow now, even if having to do it blindly wasn't exactly comfortable for her. As much of a follower as she normally was, she didn't often do so out of necessity and she couldn't say she enjoyed the feeling.

At least it didn't take too long before they finally stumbled their way into the bathroom. Letting go of Zephyr's arm as he fumbled with the shower knobs, she felt her way around to the counter to place her bundle of clothing up off the floor so she wouldn't accidentally step all over them with wet feet. That would kind of defeat the while purpose of grabbing dry clothes in the first place.

Hearing the awful noise that was coming from the pipes drew her back toward the young man and the bathtub. Was it supposed the make a noise like that? She didn't think a healthy shower should sound so sick. "You didn't break it did you?" she asked, finding his shoulder with her hand and using him to help her balance as she leaned in closer to listen. She didn't think the shower in her room had ever made that noise. "I think you bro-"

Her accusation was cut short with a yell as she was unexpectedly doused with water. The tub had been equipped with a hand held shower head that had been put back in its cradle crooked, leaving her to get a face full of water once the pipes began to cooperate. And the water was cold. Cursing and sputtering she all but lunged at the handles to try and turn the water back off again. Sudden movements, however, didn't really agree with already spinning heads and she wound up missing her target completely and toppling into the tub, cursing some more and taking several bottles of whatever had been left in there down with her. The pipes didn't seem so noisy anymore in comparison.

"I'm all wet," she whined once she'd managed to wriggle and twist enough to get herself onto her back and could slide up into a sitting position. "And everything's all slimy now," she continued, dropping an open bottle over the side of the tub and wiping the shampoo or body wash or whatever it was off onto the front of her shirt. She could feel it starting to suds under her fingers. At least it smelled nice.

This was no what she'd intended when she'd asked him to help her get to the shower. But then when had anything ever really gone as intended when Zephyr got involved? At the very least she'd have liked the chance to get out of her damp clothes before she had to wash them.

She started to giggle again at the thought, the situation starting to find a funny angle. "I'm washin' me and my clothes."

Some things are so ingrained in the mind that they inadvertently resurrect themselves at the strangest moments. Fireworks from the smell of gunpowder, ice cream from the jingle of a passing van, even fatigue from the hum of cicadas in summer…

In Simon's case, it was a classical rendition of the looney tunes theme as Isabel leaned ever closer towards the rumbling showerhead just before it gushed forth with a wall of water, drenching the brunette to the bone and leaving her spluttering as she dived for the shower handle with all the grace of befuddled badger and left her to tumble into the tub.

Huh, apparently there was a god, and he was just as much of an asshole as his creations.

Sadly the sense of schadenfreude, while satisfying, was short lived. Being effectively blind Isabel had been using him as crutch. As such when the soubrette took a tumble she’d clamped onto his shoulder and the hessian had little choice but to follow her fall with a quiet curse, and though he’d tried to grab the shower on the way down, he’d only succeeded in directing the stream on top of him, leaving the hessian just as drenched as Duskmoor, if not more so.

Still, at least he had a soft landing, not that he could enjoy it. Shocked into alertness by the spray of ice water coursing down his back Simon found himself unable to see for the first time since the lights had failed. He could still make out the surrounding walls and floor but everything under the spray of the shower was coated in a static fog.

Then Isabel started moving, leaving him not only blind but off balance as the girl twisted and writhed beneath him while he tried to find a handhold that wasn’t soft skin.

By the time Duskmoor ceased squirming the shower had finally found hot water and Simon was left kneeling in the center of the steaming spray with the brunettes legs on either side of him and arms braced on either side of the tub for balance, all without quite knowing how he’d gotten there.

"I'm all wet,"

Despite the fact he couldn’t see her, Simon slowly lifted his head to simply stare at the source of the gamines voice, letting the silence drag out for a handful of moments before deigning to respond in a tone dry enough to resurrect prohibition. “No Isabel, wet is what happens when you traipse around in the rain or step in a puddle, it implies that there might be some part of you, however small, that may still be dry.”

Pausing for a moment to gather breath he didn’t stop to wonder when he’d regained his rhetoric as he pushed on. “We on the other hand, are so soaked that we’ve likely caused a drought in five states and can now pass as sponges.”

"And everything's all slimy now,"

Simon’s brow twitched at the complete lack of regard for everything he’d just said. His mouth opened to continue his rant a new- then closed. The elementals unseeing eyes narrowed as his mind caught up to the double entendre in the girls words. Was she only playing dumb for once?

“*giggle* I’m washin’ me and my clothes *giggle*.”

Well, that answered that.What did you even say in response to that? No words were the wrong response, clearly there was only thing he could do.

“So you are Isabel, ”

Reaching over the edge of the tub he retrieved the shampoo bottle she’d discarded with one hand while the other traced the shower hose up to the cradle holding the shower head.

"I think you missed a spot though,"

Promptly upending the shampoo bottle in the vague area of the brunettes head he then pulled the shower head down and aimed it directly at the giggling gamine.

“Let me get it for you..”

Sometimes you just had to enjoy the simply things in life.

When had Zephyr ended up in the tub? Skinny as he was it still felt pretty cramped with the both of them in there. At least he was using that scrawny body of his to block most of the stream of water that had somehow manage to follow them into the tub as well. What was still hitting Isabel might have made her shiver as it slowly warmed up if she hadn't been so busy laughing at the absurdity of her current predicament. Normally she'd probably have been angry and embarrassed but right now she just couldn't seem to muster up any grumpiness. Everything was just too funny and her head felt so good and floaty.

"I wasn't trying to get any of all the spots so I'm not missing anyth-" she began, still giggly but always ready to argue with Zephyr while he blustered and moved around, right up until she got a cold bottle of shampoo dumped all over her head and the front of her shirt effectively cutting her argument short as she gasped in surprise and hurriedly swiped at the goop running down her forehead to try and keep it away from her eyes.

And then there was water in her face. So much water in her face. She shouted and sputtered and swiped at the suds as they built up. "No fair! No fair!" she complained as she squirmed. Seeing in the dark was totally an unfair advantage and so was sitting above her while she was stuck at the bottom of the tub. At least the water wasn't freezing anymore.

Somehow she was still laughing throughout the whole ordeal in between sputtering out the sudsy water that wound up in her mouth or up her nose. Zephyr wasn't usually all that playful or willing to entertain her more childish antics, but drunk Zephyr seemed to be more flexible and she couldn't truthfully say she wasn't enjoying it just a little bit. As much as she disliked him and wanted to fight him about everything, butting heads all the time could be exhausting and feeling so good and relaxed was a nice change.

"You got all of the spots! I'm all cleany so- I'm soapy cleany now!" she continue to protest, trying to squirm her way up into a sitting position and find the wrist attached to the shower head at the same time. Multitasking was proving to be difficult, especially with the shampoo making the tub all slippery. Grabbing a handful of his shirt was a lot easier than blindly hunting for his wrist in the dark. And kissing seemed like a good split-second decision kind of way to stop the watery assault.

She hoped he liked the taste of soap.

Listening to Isabel's squeals of protest as he continued dousing her with the shower was surprisingly satisfying. Actually no, if he were being entirely honest there was nothing surprising about it. Annoyance was practically the brunettes middle name and all too often he tried to talk gamine out of her behaviour and though she’d been better lately, his words frequently fell on deaf ears.

This though? This was far more effective. Leaning back for a moment he dodged another blind swipe from the soubrette as her arm broke through the shower spray while his free hand kept the girl pinned against the slope of the tub. Normally he would have been hard pressed to hold the buxom brunette in place but with the excess soap preventing her from getting a grip and his own position above her Duskmoor had no leverage to work with and thus…

“No fair! No Fair!”

“All’s fair in love and war Issie” He taunted back, the words taking on a faint sing song tone that only seemed to increase gamines giggles, water logged as they were. “Now say ‘Ahhh’” He had said he’d clean her mouth with soap at some point hadn’t he? He was fairly sure he had and if not he’d still meant to. Either way he was catching up on an old promise or saving himself the trouble of doing it later.

Isabel’s laughter and squirming increased appropriately at this even as she continued to squeal that she was clean and for a moment Simon struggled to stay upright, leaning over the soubrette and using the hand on her chest to keep himself balanced. The next thing he knew Isabel had a fistful of his shirt

That was apparently all the soubrette needed as the next thing the hessian knew Isabel had a fistful of his shirt and was pulling him down on top of her. The showerhead left his hand as the chord reached the end of its length leaving an erratic spinning spray of water just he realized Isabel’s face was getting much closer much faster.

Then there was soap, and tongue and at some point things got far more interesting.

FTB

Isabel was decidedly more wet and less clothed than she had been when she'd first gotten into the shower. Normally that would be the ideal way to approach showering, but somehow things had gonna little off the rails and a conventional state of being had come about unconventionally. Why did that always seem to be the case when Zephyr was involved?

Getting back out of the tub proved to be more difficult than she'd anticipated. Everything was still all slippery from the soap and her shorts had somehow gotten wrapped around on of her ankles and had to be clumsily untangled. She tossed them onto the floor at the far side of the room with a wet schlop. She wasn't sure where he shirt had ended up, not that it particularly mattered since she probably wouldn't go looking for those clothes again once she left. They could stay down in the basement and mold in peace.

"Told you it was danger bad. So very much bad danger," she chided, having finally freed herself from the tub and starting to feel her way along the wall for where she was pretty sure the linen closet should be. There were still a number of fluffy towels left over from the previous occupant and she wasted no time pulling several out of the closet once she'd found it. She tossed one blindly over he shoulder where she thought Zephyr might have been and kept the rest for herself. He was skinny, he shouldn't need more than one.

Isabel should probably be freaking out more than she was. Hadn't they agreed to not let this happen again after the first time? She was pretty sure they had decided to not do danger bad things again. They had done a very bad job of not doing things again. That did not bode well for future things that would definitely not be happening again ever. Probably. No, definitely. Maybe. It was hard to worry about it when she felt a little like jelly and a lot brain fuzzy. Sleep felt like it would be a better use of time. Or more booze. Or both. Both was usually good. She would have to have a breakdown later instead.

"You are a bad influence," she accused, having toweled off and rediscovered the pile of clothes she'd brought with her. "The worst influence. I'm need better friends." Better friends like Ghosty. Or maybe not Ghosty. That crazy woman had it in her head that Isabel and Zephyr were some kind of thing and they definitely weren't any kind of thing. She could not be allowed to know about this thing that happened again somehow. Maybe Isabel should go back to having no friends, good or bad. Yeah, that would be the safest way to go.

It was difficult to figure out what piece of clothing was what when she couldn't see it, but she managed to get some kind of top and bottoms out of the pile. They seemed to be shorts, or maybe just a really fat belt judging by how short they felt, and some kind of jacket or sweater or something. The top only had one button on the front, but at least it closed just enough to keep everything covered. Not that it mattered all that much at this point anyway. No, it definitely mattered. Everything always mattered. When had buttons gotten so difficult to use?

Clothes and showers did not, as a rule, tend to complement each other. Nor did a shower generally provide adequate room for two people. When one (or two) attempts to reconcile both of these problems and adds a fair share of inebriation to the mix well, the results were… utterly expected if he were being completely honest.

Which raised a whole set of issues he truly didn’t want to deal with right now. They’d done more than teach other french after all, they’d taken a few stabs at multiplication as well. The consequences of which, well, he’d deal with them later, when he was sober. For now he’d just enjoy the still miraculously hot water and… try not to get an elbow to the face as Isabel pulled herself upright?

“Careful Issie.” He called out, catching a flailing limb with one hand and guiding it to the edge of the tub while his other hand steadied her from behind. “Are you… s’re you w- to m’ve?” His words came out somewhat garbled given the shower and not at all because he was feeling tired or lightheaded. Regardless Duskmoor seemed to understand him well enough.

"Told you it was danger bad. So very much bad danger," She rebuked, though her words lacked any heat as she seemed more occupied with awkwardly flinging her soaked shorts across the room.

That was… certainly one way to put and while part of him might have felt more inclined to agree with her were he more awake, at the present Simon simply shrugged his shoulders, a smirk on his lips, slowly leveraging himself up as well; turning off the shower as the water finally began to get cold. “Satisfying though, where did you learn French?”

Isabels reply was a towel to the face.

"You are a bad influence,"

Mhmm, the worst” He agreed absently, resisting the urge to yawn while pondering what to do about his attire as he mirrored her in drying off, which was harder than it sounded given the limited space. He could still ‘see’ to some degree though even if his limbs felt like lead at the moment.

What condition had that bed been in?

"The worst influence. I'm need better friends."

“Tsk tsk, careful Issie, you’ll hurt my sister's feelings.” The hessian drawled, rolling his eyes as he wrapped the towel around his waist. “Or she would if she ever heard it, which she won’t, agreed?” The last thing he needed was Maya learning they’d shared a second night, or was it morning now?

When he didn’t get an immediate response he realized that the soubrette was busy fumbling with whatever garments she’d brought with her before, having left one item on the floor and fighting a losing battle with her top, or was it a vest?

Letting out a short sigh and a muttered “Let me do it.” Simon picked up the forgotten antenna? No it was a headband, and stepped in front of his not so adroit partner, deftly fixing the one button he could make out and slipping the headband over her hair and resting his hand there.

“Now, not a word of this to-”

Light flickered and burst into life leaving him blind and dazed, using Isabel as an impromptu anchor as his eyes struggled to adjust to the illumination after so long in the dark.

Adjust they did though, leaving him with a view of Isabels own ambers eyes and equally surprised face as they stared at each other nose to nose.

What was he saying? Something about Ghosty? Isabel was a little too preoccupied to care about giving him her full attention, especially when he was being such a smartassy jerkface. If he was talking about SistyGhost she'd rather not pick up her half of that conversation anyway. The last thing she wanted to think about was her friend's reaction to any part of what was going on between her and the bad influence. The other young woman had already somehow convinced herself that there was some kind of relationship thing happening and it absolutely was not. Zephyr was the worst and giving Ghost any reason to assume that Isabel didn't think he was the worst was a Very Bad Idea. She could almost hear the squealing encouragement already. Ugh.

Her already unsteady train of thought was easily derailed by a pair of hands commandeering the button she was struggling with. Seriously, what kind of monster made buttons so difficult to use? But more importantly why was Zephyr always creeping up on her and being so much too close? Close time, which had definitely not happened again, was over now so why was he continuing to be so close?

She grumbled and grumped over her buttoning skills being upstaged only to be further distracted by the band being pushed onto her head. Where had he gotten a headband and why did it have to be a thing that she needed to be wearing? She liked her bow better and found herself wishing she hadn't left it back in her room. The headband was much less comfortable and its weight was distributed oddly. She reached her own hand up to readjust it when it felt like it might start sliding forward, puzzled by what could be attached to the thing because there was definitely something attached to it and making its balance in her damp hair unsteady. Her bow was so much better.

He started to say something and again she stopped listening but this time it was because she was suddenly blind for real instead of just dark-blind. Apparently one of them had hit the light switch on their way into the bathroom. Had it been her? It had probably been her. She wished it hadn't been her because the sudden burst of light was both startling and very uncomfortable after being stuck in the dark for so long. Her eyes squeezed closed and her hands shot up to rub them to try and easy away all the dancing spots in her vision, bumping into his arm and maybe also his nose on the way there.

Once she was able to remove her hands from her face and keep her eyes open for more than a couple of seconds without too much heavy blinking it occurred to her just how close his face was to hers. Again. But why? Isabel could feel her face starting to go red. Things seemed much more real and present when she could actually see what was going on. Why did he always have to be so close?

She opened her mouth to say something, probably about Ghostysis and the latest Thing That Must Not Be Named, when she caught sight of herself in the mirror above the sink. "Oh what the hell," is what she said instead as she took the sight in. The things that were on the headband were apparently ears and the top with the button from hell sort of looked like a suit jacket, or maybe a magician's coat. It had a short-cut waist with the button and coat tails that looked much too long. It had to be some kind of costume piece. But the icing on the cake was the puffy little cotton tail sewn to the back of the much too short pair of bottoms she'd grabbed. How had she not noticed that?

"What the hell," she demanded again, looking both surprised and offended as her attention shifted between Zephyr and her reflection as if the whole thing were somehow his fault. It was probably his fault. She wasn't sure how, but things like this were usually his fault. "No things are being told to Ghostysis about this ever. None of the things. Ever."

Blinking the last of the blurriness from his vision Simon let himself rock back briefly, dodging a wayward poke to the face as he felt more than saw Isabel’s hands stop scrubbing her eyes and move away from her face and back to her sides. A slight over reaction, perhaps but if the lights were going to stay on he’d rather not lose an eye at this point; they were such a pain to get back.

That said, going from an utterly aphotic ambience to sudden fluorescence had done his equilibrium no favours, thankfully Isabel worked wonderfully as an anchor point and he used the hand still resting on her head to pull himself back into balance and- wait, were those rabbit ears?

"Oh what the hell,"

Yes, yes they were and, as Duskmoor was apparently also realizing, the rest of her attire fit a very specific theme. The top was less a suit jacket and more a halter top, if only because of how thin it was that there was nothing else under it. As for the hotpants well, such things were never normally designed with an excess of material in mind but as the soubrette twisted to look behind her Simon caught a flash of white as a cotton tail poked briefly into view.

Isabel Duskmoor was a playboy bunny.

"What the hell,"

And it was glorious.

Against his better judgement Simon felt his lips start to tug upwards as the brunette levelled a confused glare in his direction, clearly wanting to blame him in some way but unsure how. Best of all though, the hessian didn’t think she could; he’d had no part in what she’d taken from the closet and even if he had, he wouldn’t have been able to tell what they were in the dark.

Though in all honesty he wasn’t sure he could have chosen better.

Had he been sober he might have affected some semblance of surprise or otherwise tried to distract the girl. Exhausted as he was though, and still less than somber he couldn’t quite bring himself to care enough to stop the slight smirk which slipped across his features.

“I think you mean ‘Hot damn’, I don’t suppose you’d be willing to pose for-”

*poke*

Pausing Zephyr glanced down and slowly traced the finger in the center of his chest along Isabel’s arm to her own chest up to her face and raised an eyebrow.

"No things *poke* are being told to Ghostysis *poke* about this ever *poke*. None *poke* of the things *poke*. Ever *poke*."

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the girls serious tone Simon didn’t hesitate to give a nod of acknowledgement. Like hell he was giving his sister more ammunition. “Agreed, as much as I’m enjoying the view Maya will be insufferable if she finds out, and while I’d like to say no one would ever believe you’d dress like this -which is a shame by the way- we’re talking about woman who’s already willing to forge love letters.”

Lifting his hand from Isabels head he gently took the brunettes pointing hand and tried to move it away. ‘Tried’ being the operative word because the soubrettes arm wasn’t budging which would have been annoying if he hadn’t known just how to distract her

“Consider my lips sealed.” His voice became softer as he spoke, leaning in closer with each word until his lips brushed her once again.

Leaning away again almost as quickly he gave the stunned soubrette a cheeky grin. “Now cheer up, this is hardly the end of world and every cloud has a silver lining, case in point” he gestured between them, “for once you’re wearing more than I am.”