Saying Yes: Part 2
All characters herein belong to Marvel. Done for entertainment purposes only. Used without permission. No profit being made.
Thank you to Lynxie (see?! not hiding!) and especially to Alicia McKenzie, who's magnificent "the Lake" just made me write and write and write.
So, it wasn't that unexpected when, while in the shower, he suddenly had the numbing experience of icewater freezing his skin; and then, in blindingly sudden opposition, hotwire scalding of his skin. He hopped out of the shower in a flash.
"That," she grumbled, snatching one slick wrist before he'd come completely out, and twisting him in an immediate, slippery pirouette; the world turned upside down and though instinct had him TK shielded, he was still on his back in a split second. "Was for calling me easy."
Looking up the length of her, he grimaced and shoved himself half upright. "I thought I had amnesty today."
Her shoulders moved in a indifferent shrug. "You were the one that believed me. Now get back in there. You've still got shampoo in your hair." And she walked out, without so much as a glance back - and he was almost amusedly hurt by that, since he _was_ naked, after all.
"What do I pack?"
He opened the bathroom door and wandered into the bedroom, shrugging on a dark blue polo shirt. "You need me to tell you how to do everything?"
In a breathless rush he carpet was under his back and her bare foot was against his throat. She stood over him, grinning, and put a little more weight on that foot. "Actually, I was hoping you'd tell me where you decided to drag us."
He put his hands to her ankle, but she just pressed down a little harder, and he groaned slightly, laughing to himself even as he did it. "Surprise," he croaked, and she released the pressure, placing her foot on his chest instead.
"I hate surprises. Besides, how can I pack a bikini if we're going to the Artic, hmm? You have to hint."
He sat up, leaning back on his elbows as she crossed her arms and awaited her answer. "You may want to bring sunscreen. Bikini optional."
"So it is somewhere warm, then." She removed her foot, then hunkered down next to him. Her toenails were a gleaming red. "All right, I can live with that. But I have rules."
"Lay 'em on me." He felt magnanimous; life was good if Dom felt so happy to paint her toenails.
"No renting cars or traveling by bus. I refuse to spend my vacation traveling in a Ford Taurus or in the seat behind a screaming child."
"Everything in walking distance. Gotcha."
"I want to be able to eat outside without smelling like mosquito spray."
"No bugs. Done." Letting his elbows slide, Nathan crossed his arms behind his head and watched her through his lashes.
"No phones. I don't want us to be available to anyone."
She wiggled her toes, and then draped one foot along his stomach, letting one red-nailed digit toy with the unbuttoned top of his jeans. "On one night, with all the stars out and when you're drunk enough to not be a big dork about it, I want us to go dancing."
He jerked to his feet, leaving her on the floor. "Nu-uh."
With a great deal more grace, Domino slinked upright, jutting out her hip and crossing her arms with all the superiority in the world. "My rules. Your surprise, my rules. It's only fair."
"Domino, I am _not_ going to go dancing."
"Now, I did say you could get drunk. See, without the drunk part, you act like a big dork about it."
He glowered masterfully, but she just smiled evilly. "This is for calling you easy yesterday, isn't it?"
"No, if you remember correctly, I already got you back for that. It's really because you can act like a sanctimonious prick sometimes and I want to punch you off your pedestal, or, simply because I'm a contrary bitch. Take your pick." She gave him a pearly grin and walked away.
"I am _not_ going to go dancing, Dom!"
She didn't answer.
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