He snorted, delighted that they'd managed a cab at this hour since he wasn't up to driving. Michael was pulling on his shirt and opening the door for Noe- uh for Michael. Yeah. That one— All while hearing Michael tell the cabbie BlacTac's address as she scooted in first.

Finally! He could shed all sense of responsibilities behind him for a hot minute. He'd had so much to think about thanks to the people he'd met inside and his head was swimming through it all, still.

Was it possible that he'd lucked into something sort of permanent?

"Wait. Is yous wet? Don' get yer wet butts on my dry seats!"

Noel lifted his butt up and held a kind of reverse plank, and he reached over with threatening pinchy fingers to make sure that Michael got the hint to make their ride go already.

"We good?" He felt his voice drop like a promise of danger. He was feeling... Impatient? They just needed to go, really.

There was mutterings about crazy and a cursory mention of safety, but it seemed good enough to get the car rolling.

"Across the bridge, ya say?"

"Akshally... Noll... NO-wellll." He snerked, feeling just a tiny bit mischievous as he rolled his head across the back of the car seat. "How ya feel 'bout tattoos?" This would really be a much easier conversation if they weren't keeping their butts off the seats. A hearty chuckle threatened to bubble up past his words. "I don' know when we'll be... like befor'." He glanced at the cabbie, but took Michael's hand anyway before the absurdity laughter turned into panic and despair. He lowered his voice and got closer so maybe it'd be more trouble to drop eaves.

"I'm havin' trouble tellin' who I am an' lettin' go. If it's f'rever... if I had ta choose one person..."

New York City was being itself. It was late thirty and they were able to catch a cab. Noel was in no condition to drive and Ranger couldn’t remember how. Ranger was giggling at Noel as she climbed into the cab, her boot almost catching on the edge of the door. She was getting proper treatment by Noel, what with the door opening. As she slid across the back seat, Ranger gave the cabbie the address to BlacTac. The clothes she had been carrying fell from her hands when the cabbie suddenly demanded that they don’t get their wet butts on his dry seats.

Ranger looked to Noel as the both hovered their butts over the seats. Before turning to the cabbie and saying, ”Wet butts off the dry dry. Do the drive.” Ranger said and pointed her finger forward helpfully. She didn’t want the driver to go backwards. Behind them was Haven. They didn’t need to go back to the party.

Cabs didn’t belong in hot tubs. Especially if they need to be dry.

Ranger used one hand to grab onto the seat in front of her and hold it to hover her wet butt over the seat. The driver confirmed that they were going over the bridge and Ranger bobbed her head in the affirmative… Wait… Noel was talking to her. About… Tattoos? ”Uh… Tat-tattoos ‘re… cool?” Ranger cocked her head. She wasn’t unsure about tattoos, but why was Noel asking about tattoos. Did he want to get tattoos! ”Y’ want t’ get tattoos?” Ranger excitedly asked. She had from time to time thought about getting a tattoo while in the service, but never did. Now she could!... but she was Noel and Noel was Michael. Noel seemed to be a few steps ahead and one step over.

Noel brought up the fact that they didn’t know when they would swap back looking at the driver and taking Ranger’s hand and moving closer. Ranger’s heart skipped a beat when Noel made contact and there was a fluttering as he moved closer. She felt heat in her cheeks and was glad it was dark.

Having trouble telling who he was. Noel was feeling what Ranger was feeling. A week as someone else was a hell of a thing, especially as you slowly replaced some of your memories with someone else's. Hell, the last evening had been the real kicker. The longer it went on the more just letting it all go made sense. And if Noel had to choose one person…

”It… would be me?” Ranger asked. It was a very strange conversation to have and Ranger felt strange having it. The strangeness of the moment didn’t mean Ranger didn’t find it sweet and intimate. ”This sounds like a proposition ‘r a proposal… a proprositional.” Ranger surprising herself with how hopeful she sounded... and felt ”But… tattoos?”

—and there it was. She was already finishing his sentences. It would be her.

"It's already you, goose." He let go of her hand to tweak her nose and the cab made a sharp turn that made the reverse plank more of a try not to fall on top of one another sort of situation. Noel did his best not to land on either Michael or the seat. He was left planking the right way where she was still backwards, with his arms straddling her shoulders and his feet just clearing hers.

> ”This sounds like a proposition ‘r a proposal… a proprositional.”

He flexed his arms around her shoulders, strangling the upholstery behind her. ”Y’ migh’ be stuck with me anyways. Could be a platonical parpersitional par- prohh…” He struggled. Didn’t have to be anything more, but it felt like more. Already, he was having to resist the urge to close the electric inch that was the last thing keeping them from completing the circuit.

> “But tattoos?”

”I mean. Not a butt tattoo. That’d be hard to see… And, I know we both saw how permanent that turned ou’ t’ be, but I cain’t think o’ anything more… permanent.” He finished lamely. If this swap was forever, what more could they do to hold on to who they were before? ”Y’ already walked more than a mile in my size shoe. Even if my sneakers turned out to be too lame f’r y’r sensibilities.”

The car rolled to a stop and the cabbie cleared his throat. Loudly. At least four times.

Ranger’s guess was met with a confirmation and a nose tweaking. Ranger scrunched her face up and pulled her head back letting a short giggle escape. It was just in time to avoid an unscheduled head bonking as the cabbie made a sharp turn.

As Ranger was pulled toward the window on her side of the cab she acted on instinct. She tucked her chin and put her free arm around the back of her head. The arm connected with glass and she bounced off but she was unhurt and wet butt never met dry seat. Mission accomplished! Before she lifted her head to see, she felt Noel straddling in front of her. He was in some kind of angular plank just in front of her. So close. The widest inch was between them.

Noel flexed and Ranger was able to feel a fraction of the raw power that her old body could produce. She looked up at Noel’s face. She was breathing heavier and the sexual tension was starting to drive her wild.

Then Noel poo-pooed everything.

A platonic proprositional. Ranger slacked, she hadn’t even noticed how rigid she was holding her body. ”Oh…” Ranger said. Disappointment in her voice. ”That makes sesnens.” Ranger nodded her head. Was she a fool for thinking there could be more? They hadn’t known each other that long. Sure they had been through more in their short time than most people did in an entire relationship.

Butt tattoos? Was Noel playing at obtuse or was Ranger that bad at communicating? Although… Something more permanent? ”Once y’ go boots y’ never go back.” Ranger wiggled her feet around as much as she could and still stay supported above the seat. ”An’... A tattoo’s about the most permanent thing I can think of…” Most permanent physical thing, ”Other than a marriage. They’re ‘til death.” Ranger put an excessive amount of emphasis on the last word and poking Noel in the side as she said it.

Ranger moved her face a little closer to Noel’s and asked, ”What kind uf tattoos were y’ thinkin’?... Oh… Sorry.” Ranger pulled back from Noel and almost slid her leather soled boots across the floorboard which would have put wet butt on dry seat. A no-no for sure. The cabbie was staring at the nad clearing his throat.

Patting Noel on the side Ranger said, ”I think we’re here... Are we here? Where are we? Tattoo parlor!...Yes. Let’s do it!” Ranger shifted her seat hover. She grabbed Noel around his midsection with one arm, then the other, holding him for just a moment, before she moved one arm to press against the seat and then letting the other arm trail slowly off Noel. It was better positioning to leave the cab and in no way an excuse to put her hands on Noel. Not at all. No way, Jose.

The way she deflated at the word 'platonic' meant she felt the current that ran between them too... Still, he couldn't fathom that would last forever? Could it? At least she didn't tease him about it.

The tease about marriage hit a little close to his thinking, and underst the rib-poking circumstances sounded like a bit of a threat. What. It wasn't like he'd knocked her up. Why would they be obligated to marry? And why was that terrifying? He was no longer under the threat of forgetting. And he was perfectly poised, maybe even obligated, to stay and make sure she didn't forget what was important.

> ”What kind uf tattoos were y’ thinkin’?

Absolutely every good thinking thought was gone from his head when she whispered in his ear. Tattoos? What were tattoos in the face of someon ya really wanted to have the backseat of a car alone with?

"Uh. A puma?"

A puma!? That wasn't- WHAT WAS A PUMA AGAIN!? No small amount of panic set in. Was he obligated to get some kind of pig tattoo now?

She touched him. He knew they were there by the coughs, but it seemed with as entangled as they were... Yeah. She got it and used him as leverage to scoot out of the cab first. That left Noel shaky and swaying with the cab fare. He scooted out after and leaned through the passenger-side window to pay by app. Paying by app was possibly his favorite part of waking up ten years in the future. It meant he could travel light.

And then he had to catch up to an enthusiastic Michael, who'd almost just waltzed right in to get herself a shiny new tattoo.

Noel grabbed her elbow and towed her to the side of the building. He slid one arm behind her torso and the other behind her head as he pressed her up to the concrete of the wall and scooted right in afterwards with a kiss to her cheek, too scared to go in for the real deal.

"Y' asked me what I wanted." Now it was his turn to whisper. Somehow it was much easier to admit that way, not having to see her face, just feeling how she'd react through the contact of their bodies. "I wanna grow up wi' you. I wan' ferever an' ferever is terrifying. I wan' y' t' take care o' me an' I wanna take care of you. What... what kind a tattoo is that?" He buried his face in her hair and shoulder, too cowardly to face the consequences of all he'd said. They were tied together already. He didn't want to trap her because of that.

A… Puma? Ranger wasn’t sure why Noel wanted a puma but if he wanted a puma then a puma Noel would get. Ranger thought getting a tattoo of a cougar was weird, but lion, tigers, and dragon tattoos were all overdone… Or did he mean the shoe? Why would someone get a tattoo of a shoe? Noel couldn’t possibly want a shoe tattoo.

Boots would be better on a tattoo than shoes anyday. Maybe with bluebonnets.

Out of the cab, Ranger was sauntering up to the tattoo parlor. Her arms were happily swinging around. After a moment she spun around while still walking to see where Noel was. Her feet sliding across the ground like she was dancing to some unheard country waltz. She saw Noel leaning through the copilot window. He was likely paying. Right. Because that’s a thing you have to do. Ranger realized she was so excited she had forgotten they would need to pay.

Facing forward again, Ranger kept to the 3/4 beat in her head and waltzed right up to the door. Before she could go in and plop herself down in a chair to get a nice boots and bluebonnet tattoo, Noel caught Ranger’s arm and led her over around to the side of the building where he slid his arms around her and pressed her against the building.

That alone sent Ranger’s heart racing. When Noel then leaned in and kissed her cheek she was practically melting. She wanted to kiss Noel but he had kept his face where she couldn’t reach his lips with hers.

Noel whispered to Ranger. He told her what he wanted. As he spoke, Ranger bit her lip and felt her knees weakening. When he finished and buried his face in her hair… Ranger didn’t know what to say. It was the most wonderful thing anyone had said to her.

So instead of speaking she squealed.

Only for a moment before she bit down on it and stopped. She wrapped her arms around Noel and ran her hands along his back. Feeling the muscles under the shirt. ”I… Want all that too.” Ranger said a giant smile on her face as she nuzzled the back of Noel’s head, trying to unbury his face with hers. ”I want y’ t’ be the one there when I fall asleep an’ there when I wake up. The one t’ hold me tight an’ touch me softly. F’rever… Whether I’m you, y’r me, as long as we’re us.” Ranger snaked one hand back around and held it up near their faces. Her left hand. ”A ring tattoo. It says it more than any’ big cat ‘r shoe ever could..” She was practically vibrating with excitement. She was worried that even suggesting the ring may have been a step too far but damn it, it was what she wanted! More than platonic, more than just a short time together because the city happened to bring them together.

Ranger wanted Noel. All of him. Forever.

A tattoo parlor wedding! They could figure the legal stuff out later.

He had her trapped. Maybe that was why she squealed, but it surprised him so much, he started to let go but couldn't 'cause it was apparently her turn to trap him. She made it easy to lean back in and be trapped.

Oh. It'd been a happy squeal. He felt like his cheeks were a bit flushed as he smiled enough to round out his cheeks. Probably the drink, but everything sappy resonated with him. "We're us." He confirmed it. Felt... important.

And a ring tattoo was maybe just about right. Impossible to lose. He'd asked, and damn if he couldn't think of a better answer. He was getting swept away in her excitement, and sealed that with a kiss— a real one, this time. But before he could get carried away in the tangle of her arms, he made himself disengage.

"Okay, but who's name on who?" Also a butt tattoo was still sounding funny. No, focus! He pulled away until it was just his hand in hers. "Le's go get tattoos!"

The bell chimed over the top of the metal door when Noel pushed it open.

"Y'all ever do ring tattoos?" The shop had one guy working on a huge sprawling back tatto- it looked like he would be working in it for hours more- and a woman with short green hair who was elbow-deep in what smelled like disinfectant.

"There's a book. Uh, not that one. That one." She nodded with her head until Noel got his hand on the correct one. He opened it up and saw hand tattoos of all kinds in flat form or as a snapped picture of someone's hand. Barbed wire, hands holding hearts, more than just rings: mustaches on fingers and little icons.

"Maybe jus' a line. Like a real ring that can't be lost..." Oh. There was even a boot.

Ranger was not disappointed. Noel echoed her sentiment before he kissed her. When their lips met, Ranger couldn’t contain herself and she as her tongue moved, she dove into a memory.

She was looking at Noel… No. Ranger saw herself in her own body. ”Tt feels like I'm getting away with something.” They were in the cabin in Texas. She was seeing the moment between kisses from Noel’s perspective. Experiencing as Noel had. "I'd do it again." She felt as Noel… Herself lay a hand on her hand. She heard, ”Where I’m from twice makes it a tradition.” and felt the rush of excitement as she watched the body that Noel was now in close the distance between them. Teasing with a nose.Just as their lips met, Ranger was able to stop everything and pull out of the memory.

The memory shut down, Ranger was back in the there and then. A week that involved practicing with Noel and working for SUPER had given Ranger enough control to shut down memories when she desperately wanted to be in her present. It wasn’t perfect, she was there longer than she wanted to be.

It was too long though.

By the time Ranger personally reengaged in the kiss, Noel was pulling away. Ranger reached out for one last small kiss before it was over. She didn’t want it to end. She felt like kissing Noel was the air she needed to live… but they were there for something. Something other than kissing and being oh so close.

Tattoos!

Right, they were there for tattoos. Noel slid away until he was only holding Rangers hand as he asked who’s name was on who’s tattoo.

It was a very good question. Ranger pursed her lips as she thought for a moment. The question was more loaded than it sounded. Who’s name on who’s depended on who was who. Ranger still thought of herself as Michael Hunter, the Texan who enlisted in the United States Army and made it through selection to the most elite Counter Terrorism unit in the world before being dropped due to Homeland politics and ending up in New York City. A man amongst men. Yet… As the night had gone on, she had become more comfortable thinking of herself as Noel. The woman she now was, the woman who due to her power had to fight to keep control of her own identity. The woman who’s memories she had found. The woman whom she wouldn’t mind being stuck as.

Ranger tilted her head to the side and after giving a small smile before looking at her finger and saying,, ”I think… Michael on mine, Noel on y’rs. If we switch back it’ll work out. If we don’t.” Ranger looked back at Noel, ”I can accept being Noel. It… Doesn’t really taste uh lyin’ anymore t’ introduce myself as Noel. An’ it’ll be easier f’r people t’ understand than if I just start callin’ myself Michael again.”

Into the tattoo parlor they went. Noel took charge and inquired about ring tattoos and was directed to a book. Ranger took the moment to look around. One of the artists was giving them weird looks. Mostly her though. Noel looked down and realized she was just in boots and the space pizza cat bikini. She laughed. Realized she left her clothes in the cab. Looked back out the door to see the cab gone and then laughed again.

Noel was looking through the book and put forth the idea of just a line, like a ring. Ranger looked over at the book. ”Oh! A boot… No… We’re here for rings, not boots an’ bluebonnets.” Ranger saw something and stuck her finger on the page. She was indicating a design that was wide enough to have texturing and words printed. ‘Property of ……’. ”Dare me t’ get one that says that? She asked, rotating her torso with her arms flopping like some grade schooler on the playground. ”An’ maybe y’ get one too… That way we never forget who we belong t’.”

Her mind made up, Ranger turned to the artist with green hair, ”Do I jus’ take a seat there?” She indicated an empty chair, ” Or wait f’r y’ ‘r… him… Never gotten a tattoo before. Don’t know the protocol… Can I just sit in his lap?” Ranger indicated Noel, ”An’ we get them together?”

Could the artist marry them?

> "If we switch back it’ll work out. If we don’t. I can accept being Noel."

That felt... huge. If this was forever, it was a token reminder of who they were and who the identities they were leaving behind. If it wasn't forever, then... uh... then it'd still be forever, but because they chose it. Because... uh. Reasons. Reasons were swimming around in his head and he was sure there were really good reasons, but he was having a hard time pinning any one of those reasons down. He dealt out a lot of those reasons already in the alleyway before they'd come in. Since they'd left his hands, they were now alluding him.

> ”Dare me t’ get one that says that?"

"Ew no. I do NOT dare, Mr. Madam. We're not country yodels who're parper... prrarpor.. porortea." Hoooo some words were just plain hard sometimes. He licked his lips and squinted at the spelling of the tattoo that looked like it was on the fleshy part of the hand. "Proper tea. Sides y'r fingers' too small. This's a hypo-then-ar... whatever that is." He pointed at the label, but Michael was already hummingbird flitting to the chair. She was so into it.

"Uh. You can sit together if you'll keep eachother still, sure. Keyword: Still. Be. Still." The artist was skeptical, clearly, but Michael intended to be on his best behavior. No. Uh. Noel. He was Noel. He was still gonna be nice.

"I don' s'pose y'r an ordained minister?" Noel slipped into the chair first and held out his hands for Michael to sit backwards on his lap so their left and left hands would be facing the same tatto support bench thingy.

The man working in the back snorted over his work while the woman fished tattoo gun parts from the cleaning liquid. To her credit, the question didn't set her too off balance.

"That'd be a big no from me, dog. You want to get married, go to city hall tomorrow. Best I can do is the rings."

"Rings're fine. Dunno if y' c'n tell, but we're pretty non-traditional." But, a promise for permanence... that was something. Rings first, rings second. Whatever. They'd be married enough to remember tomorrow.

"So- you want to be 'property of'...?"

"No! No." He'd responded with a little more force than intended and so immediately walked it back to a more simple negative. "Jus' the plain band. Names on th' inside like th' one on page 24." He raised an eyebrow at Noel in case she had other ideas.

"Are you... m'I still needle-proof?"

That got a big eyebrow from the tattoo artist who was in the process of flipping to page 24.

Ranger had to laugh. Noel’s reaction to the idea of rings that said ‘Property of’ was just amusing. It was so instant and forceful. Not to mention coupled with an inability to say the word property. Noel went to say something else, but like a kid with ADD trying to change a lightbulb, Ranger was off to ride bikes.

On her way over to the chair, Ranger had a thought. Noel likely couldn’t be tattooed! That just wasn’t fair! It wouldn’t do if both of them didn’t have a tattoo. Ranger looked at the woman with green hair and said, ”I can be still.” She smiled. Ranger’s patting at her waist looking for a knife, and then touching every possible place she could reach on the way over, gave the woman an extreme level of doubt.

Noel walked past and asked the woman if she was a minister. Ranger, totally not looking at Noel’s butt, saw what she needed. She reached out and snatched the knife that was affixed to Noel’s swimsuit. She held it in triumph for a moment.

The woman wasn’t a minister. That was a shame. Noel held out his arms for Ranger to join him on the seat. Ranger almost tripped over herself right before she turned to sit.

Ranger had never worn that particular swimsuit before. It had been a gag gift, a great one at that. It looked great, but had one fatal flaw. The star… Was front and center. The white star. Ranger’s eye’s bulged for just a second as she drew both lips into her mouth. White material doesn’t stay quite as opaque when wet.

It was only a near trip. Ranger recovered from the distracted misstep and planted herself down on top of Noel. Providing concealment.

When asked if they wanted the rings Ranger had spoken about, Noel with a forceful negative. He really didn’t want that on the rings. Ranger had thought it would be funny, but maybe it was a bit much for a ring to have. They would go with simple bands with names on them. Ranger looked at her hand and considered how small the finger was. ‘Michael’ was a long name to put on one side.

Noel asked if he was still needle proof. Ranger nodded and said, ”I think so. Good thing, y’ brought this.” Ranger held up the knife, then looked at the woman who stopped turning pages in the book. ”...He can’t get a tattoo unless we make it so he can. Mutant powerses and all that. It’s okay, watch.” Ranger deployed the blade and turned to sit sideways so she could hold  Noel’s right arm with one hand to keep it still, then drew the blade along his forearm with the other. The skin moved showing that the blade was being pressed into it, but it didn’t break. "See. Alls good." She said with a smile.

The woman relaxed some. She still looked suspicious, but that likely had more to do with Ranger having a knife in her hand than just the fact someone had a knife out in general.

When the needle came out and the buzzing started, Ranger leaned down close to Noel’s ear and whispered, ”Y’r swimsuit’s see through… Front an’ center.” While there was mirth in her voice there was also a sultry playfulness to it. 

Noel thought Michael sitting on him was a bit more distracting than he'd anticipated. He was embarrassed at his response, but double embarrassed that he'd suggested it and it'd be rather impolite to unseat her. Ruin the ring thing. All that. He scooted her until she fit and put his hand back where the tattoo artist could get hold of it.

He let Michael grab the knife that'd been weighing those pants down, probably one of the reasons that window of star framed everything just. so. perfectly. Ugh. He was ready to die all over again. While looking at the ceiling, Noel was pretty sure he heard something muttered... something about kinky. He had never heard the term 'knifeplay' before, but he could extrapolate a meaning, even as silly as he was feeling. And, again, he felt the pressure of the blade, but no skin broke. Nothing gushed blood. No other bad things. He offered the tattoo artist a sheepish shrug.

> "See. Alls good."

All was good, until the tattoo artist swabbed his hand with cold alcohol. He jerked. Just a bit. He'd stupidly been expecting the needle right away.

"Still." The artist growled and repositioned his hand.

"Yes'm." Noel turned away so he wouldn't tense up and anticipate anything. Whether that made it worse or better was... to be determined. All he had to look at was Noel with a knife. Michael. Jesus, this was not usually this hard to keep straight.

> "Y’r swimsuit’s see through… Front an’ center.”

His head was ready to swim away when it rushed full of blood. But he'd promised not to move. The temporary tattoo had been placed and the artist was asking for confirmation of the spelling for 'Noel'. He hardly checked, hoping Michael would so he didn't have to face the artist.

"S' fine." He grimaced and grumbled more softly to Michael that they were going to immediately throw the novelty trunks away. The tattoo gun buzzed to life and he set his grump on his face. "Soon as we're home."

Ranger held in a laugh as Noel turned red. She couldn’t hold back a smile. It was a nice bit of payback, Ranger could still feel a little heat in her cheeks from when she sat on Noel’s lap and could feel his excitement. Not that she minded. Ranger even gave Noel a little eyebrow wiggle.

The tattoo artist wanted to confirm the spelling of Noel. Ranger turned her head to look. There had already been instructions to be still, which had already been broken once requiring an irritated reminder. Able to rotate freely enough from her perch, Ranger checked the spelling.

It was correct.

The artist had spelled her name right and so she nodded and turned back to her work on Michael’s arm. As far as she could tell, as long as she kept the knife blade moving across Michael’s skin his power would continue to protect against the blade and allow for the needle to pierce Michael’s skin.

Michael also confirmed the spelling before he softly mentioned how they were getting rid of the swimsuit. As soon as they were home. Noel looked at him…

No. She was Michael. He was Noel. It was all too easy to slide into thinking of them as who they were now not who they had been. Perhaps that was good though. If the swap proved permanent, it might just be easier to become Noel. Given enough time with Noel’s power it would happen more than just physically anyway.

Ranger looked at Noel. Her mind whirling in the momentary self-induced identity confusion. The buzz of the needle was running behind her and Noel had a gumpy look set on his face. Well, that just wouldn't do. This was the necessary step in creating something permanent to show what they wanted. Each other. Forever. Something that was a little more necessary as a hedge for Ranger. She slid the hand not holding the knife down to Noel's right hand. She softly grasped it. Based on Noel's reaction when he only thought the needle was running, Ranger thought he might want something to hold onto.

”Oh yeah?” Ranger purred as she moved her face closer to Noel’s, ”In a hurry t’ get outta y’r pants are y’?” As she spoke she wiggled a little on Noel’s lap. Not enough to move Noel’s arm and draw a further chastisement from the tattoo artist, but enough for Noel to hopefully know it was intentional. She also punctuated the sentence with a kiss.

With a herculean effort of will, Ranger controlled herself. She gave just the barest peck on Noel’s lips. No tasting, no losing herself in memories. No leaving her body to move and disrupt the tattooing as she did.

It did not feel... good. And yet...

"'ventally tha knife's gonna cut iddint?" He tried to shift his focus to something else like the worry for his arm’s integrity. He really wanted to shift his weight or move or something, but he'd already been admonished once.

He was a pillar.
He was a statue.
He was getting teased about wanting to get out of his pants, and that made him more rose granite than marble. Which was fine. The Texas capitol was made of that stuff.

He got a kiss for his trouble and wiggle that was crossing all kinds of wires. Noel realized he’d started to lean forward to chase her as she pulled away, but caught himself and had to lean back again. If he didn’t have to be still, he would have… something.

”Not sure if that makes it easier. Or harder.” Maybe a little from both columns, much to his continued mortification. He took to counting ceiling tiles. There were a few ugly ones and by the time he’d passed 20, his breathing wasn’t so ragged.

After what seemed an actual eternity of pin-pricking and vibration he felt down to the bones of his hand, the artist flipped his hand (with another reminder to be still, PERFECTLY still) and set to work on the fiddly bits.

Not too much longer and it'd be payback time.

Eventually the knife would cut. That sounded like it was correct. While Ranger didn’t know the extent of what the power did, she knew it eventually stopped protecting. It was just a matter of how long. Ranger shrugged one shoulder and said, ”Probably?... Jus’… Jus’ tell me if it hurts. Don’ wanna have t’ stitch it up.” Needing stitches was a hell of a mood killer.

Ranger’s teasing brought a predictable response. Both to to Noel’s already reddened face as well as to his… ” Somethin’ harder f’r sure.” Ranger said as she leaned forward to whisper into Noel’s ear as he stared at the ceiling like they were in the Sistine Chapel.

Noel was clearly trying to control himself. Ranger could feel the cadence of his breathing and hear how ragged it was. She had an evil grin on her face as she leaned back to let Noel control herself. He had a little while to go until the ring was finished and there was more time for fun and games after the rings were on.

Instead Ranger kept to her own business of working the blade across Noel’s arm. As she did though she continued to wiggle slowly on Noel’s lap. She had to still have some fun while she waited.

When the tattoo artist flipped Noel’s hand she reminded Noel to be perfectly still. The stress was on perfectly, but she did look at Ranger when she said “still”. Ranger gave her an awkward smile and stopped her hip movement. The artist was getting to the part where precision was necessary.

From there it went well and it wasn’t long before the tattoo artist was switching everything out and said, “Your turn. Lay your hand here and be still. Very still. More still than you were while I was doing his.”

Ranger nodded and turned on Noel’s lap so that she was properly facing forward. She didn’t need to keep drawing the blade across Noel’s skin so there was no need to be turned sideways anymore. She closed the knife and then set it down. Her hand lay where the tattoo artist indicated a bit of a weird bend at her wrist so she scootched a little and lay back against Noel some to get it into a better position.

Turning her head to the side while the woman set the temporary tattoo Ranger asked, ”Hurt much?” That particular place seemed a very painful place to get a tattoo. Ranger never having had a tattoo didn’t know for sure, but she didn’t think it was the most fun feeling in general or that place in specific.

When the buzzing of the tattoo gun started, Ranger reached out with her right hand for Noel’s.

He tipped his forehead onto her shoulder and left it there until the knife started to actually hurt. He didn't have to complain. Just sucking in his breath was enough for Micahoel to pull back. That was good because whatever had been about to come out of his mouth was not going to be dignified. A single bead of blood bubbled up, red and distracting. He could really use some distracting right about now.

"Bad." He chided as his hand got tugged and repositioned and stuck with buzzing needles again. Quite suddenly he felt like a ship whose sails had suddenly lost their wind. It wasn't that the pain changed. It was more that he felt like he'd run out of the ability to keep the hurt from bothering him. He put his forehead back against Michael's shoulder and breathed. He could have taken a nap that way, but there wasn't that much tattooing left.

> "Your turn."

Noel'd thought that might mean some swapping or repositioning, but he hadn't quite thought it through enough to imagine where they'd end up with Michael tucked in against him. He held out his tattoo hand for her to inspect. It was slick with goo sticking out from under a fluff of gauze and it felt hot, like it was much bigger and more important than the little space on his finger it actually took up.

> ”Hurt much?”

"Jus' enough." She took his free hand and he curled their joined hands around them, touching cold February skin that needed something more than a bikini to keep warm.

> "F***ing gross cute. Hurry it up and get them the **** out of here."

Noel snorted through her nose against Michael's bare shoulder at the muttering that came from the long-haul tattoo going on in the back and found himself falling into a dozing state. He was just conserving energy. That was all. Much easier than pretending to be a statue.