Also known as The HomecomingScene, this was written after Beej and Neets came back from their trip to see Beej's family. Elvis (one of BeejMun's many nicknames) had been on a trip of her own, to a small seaside town.

*Blackwater Portent Jones decides that he rather hates rugs. Especially bales of rugs. Especially bales that happened to be taller than himself by a good foot... He grimaces and continues wrestling said bale of rugs up the stairs, giving it a kick every now and then* How did I let myself get talked into this...? *Grumble* ((*Came up with Beej's middle name whilst writing B+N in the sand to puzzle others* *Grumps at various bits of equipment* Just -work-, thank you.))

~~Trailing amusedly along behind the trader comes a lad of possibly 17, maybe 23...hard to tell, even with that grin on his effeminate face. Thin, scarred arms tucked over his bony chest, he snickers softly.~~ Y'kno', a'kin see w'ere y'git'cher sell'n from...yer fam'ly kin talk an'one inta -an'thin'-!

*He snorts at the green-haired object of his affections, smiling wryly* Oh, stuff a sock in it and give me a hand.... This is the last one, anyhow..... *The grin gets a bit mushier as he peers over his shoulder at Neets, no malice in any of his words* It's the born-to thing, in action... *A shrug* Fortunately, I don't have to run right out and sell all of these *kick* right away....

~~Rolling amber eyes, he stoops over to lift one end of the rug, grunting softly.~~ Need s'mor' socks y'kno'. Wore 'oles in't oth'r pa'r, walk'n 'roun' inna des'rt. ~~Pleased at his own actions, the word "Partners" suddenly zinging through the folds of his grey matter, he watches the trader fumble at the door.~~ Yer' folks seem'd nic'nuff.

Walked holes in them, did you? I wondered where you'd gotten to.... *He shoulders the door to their room open and kicks around 'til he finds the other two rugs* Here we are.... 'Sgood to be home. *He blinks at himself, walking along the length of the other rugs* They were...pleased, that I showed up with you... *He drops his end* There. Or, at least, what they assumed you to be, dressed like that... *A faint twinge of unhappiness, quickly replaced by a odd giddyness|euphoria|sheer delight mixed with pleasure|salaciousness at the memory of how Neets had looked, as well as the "Partners" thought...*

'Ad t'git 'way fr'm t'em kids! 'ang'n offa me n'ask'n me t'play wit'm... ~~The unease echoed by the emerald-haired youth, mirrored, sharpened by a touch of...envy, of the children who raced around the camp. It can't last long though, in the face of that now-familiar giddy rush.~~ Y't'ink...a't'nk yer ma mi'ta cau't onta me. Ain't sur'. ~~He surveys the rugs with a snort, thinking they were a bitch to transport.~~ Y'jus lik'd see'n me inna ve'l.

I know! *He blinks at Neets, amazement plain on his face* I'm an uncle.... *He shakes his head and begins to untie the closures of the long, dark blue shirt/robe he wears* I don't know why that surprises me, I was one the -last- time I visited.... *He catches the envious flicker but lets it slide, looking thoughtful* What makes you say that? *A small laugh* 'Least you didn't get hauled off to fetch water and grilled the entire trip..... *A faint smirk* Well..... Maybe I did. *He doesn't bother to mention that Neets' round-necked, button-down shirts were rather yummy, or any other of a dozen other states of dress or undress...*

~~He grins a little, finding it easy enough to move forward and push the trader's hands out of the way.~~ Yer gett'n'm all tangl'd. ~~Focusing his eyes on the laces, he seems faintly amused by the reaction to children.~~ Tho't'ya din' lik' kids? ~~Nibbling his lower lip, he runs back through the few moments he spent alone with the woman.~~ Dunno...jus' kep' on eye'n me all funny-lik'. ~~And for his part, he doesn't mention how much he liked the loose, silky clothing the trader adopted. OR how easy it was to get him out of.~~

Not in general... I mean, some kids, well behaved, quiet, polite... Those I don't mind. Nomi's kids are... well, Nomi's kids... *A shrug, watching Neets' hands* I am...? Was....? Erm.... *A snicker, followed by a sigh* I just want out of 'em.... *He laughs a moment later, realizing that his phrasing was rather on the poor side* And into my usual clothes, you. *A nod* She did? *Snigger* Probably just tryin' to decide if you had nice, wide hips.... Hmmph. *He reaches over and pokes the younger man in the ribs, gently* ((*Tilts her head to the side* Really? I wanted to bring the mercurial elf by... Cricket's been nattering at me even before I left..... *Shakes head* Jiffs would be fine, too... *Laugh* Tripod's back up? *Hopes so*))

A'g'ess...~~He shrugs, having been mostly unable to sort out one set of children from another, just recognizing them in his seventeen year old mind as ''loudstickypossiblysmellyonedayadults'' But then, even he was forced to admit that of late, his mind wasn't exactly residing in his noggin...~~ Suuuur' Beej. 'Vent'ally...*A soft snicker is his final word on the subject as the ties come loose under his agile fingers.~~ Don' t'ink'm gonna be giv'n 'er many gran'kids...jus' a 'unch I got... ~~And actually he decides, stepping back and looking down critically, he has rather skinny hips. Very bony...~~ ((*grin* Cricket! Yaaaaay! Cricket better than Jiffs! *nodnod* *snicker* Not likely! Won't be back till tomorrow morning.))

Trust me, Neets... We'll be running into hellions that you won't be allowed to, say, lock away from society until they're old enough to behave themselves.... *Another shrug* And then there are the occasional kids that are polite, careful when they pick things up and welcome to come back... *He sighs at his lover's words, since they don't exactly surprise him...* I should have known.... *He holds the shirt shut for the moment, raising his gaze to those amber eyes* That's pretty much a lead pipe cinch, dear.... *Even though he -knows- Neets' hips are deliciously bony ((*Had nothing to do with that* *Really*)), it doesn't stop him from appraising them [again], either.* ((*Sniggers at 'Reese* You just like watching poor, slightly insane Cricket wallow around in self-pity... *Sighs* Cricket feels awful about what's happened and Cricket's desire to apologize has been driving me -nuts-! *Decides 'Reese had SL24 cached* *Read the original, instead*))

~~He looks at the elder man like he's sprung a leak in his head somewhere, then shakes his own.~~ Nev'r bin'roun' kids much y'kno'. G'ess yer sist'rs w'rn s'bad. Yer'jus gonna 'affta sho' me. ~~He grins, but doesn't really make any overt moves towards the trader.~~ Ain't nev'r gonna be a moth'r...a'feel jus' awf'l. ~~Hmmph. Well, having already changed back into his jeans and t-shirt, the hips in question are displayed rather well, the unbelted waistband slung low.~~ ((*grin* I just like Cricket! *Read SL24 earlier today...*))

((*Laugh* I know... *nudge* Thought so.... *Considers* There's a novel in the ORP, I can almost see it.... *Blinks at Thomas and Cole's Hx* Especially with the addition of that....)) *A small, apologetic grin* Sorry.... Badly raised children get on my nerves, is all.... *He shifts his weight a bit, standing hipshot and studying his fingernails... Just casually standing there, occasionally glancing at the boa-tressed youth* I know... *A nod* Yeah, Nomi's kids are all right... Show you what? *Canescent eyes roll* I can tell, you're heartbroken.... *Hmm.... Beej considers various things, his critical [or not-so-critical, since this -is- Neets he's peering at] gaze not missing a thing... He remains where he is, for the moment*

Nah...git'n m'n'rves too. ~~Somehow, over the years, and allowed into play now, young Mr. Knickerbocker has managed the trick of looking completely, exotically, maddeningly disinterested. This pose, involving thumbs tucked into a loose denim waistband, bony hips thrust slightly forward and back curved away, is one so many strive for and few pull off with any amount of style. Feral, alien...well, perhaps not. No, -definately- not with that silly grin on his face.~~ Dunno...mi't b'okay, f'was yer' kids. ~~And then he lets loose a tiny snicker at his own silliness.~~ 'Ow t'sell stuff, n'spot t'one's 'o're gonna rip'ya off. ((*grin* There's a novel there for SURE.))

((*Is working on IC response...* *Gets the feeling that Neets an' Beej are doing some sort of odd male-posturing|bluffing-something something* *Is too...blissed(?) on Ska to think staright about complex anthropological things* *Giggles and makes self get back to work*))

((*Also thinks Neets and Beej are posturing for effect.* *KNEW she had based Neets gestures and physical make-up on a character...re-read 'Drawing Blood' by Poppy Z. Bright and found him.*))

I think they get on most people's nerves... *A small shrug, hand dropping* I also think we've had this discussion- the one about having kids -before... *A snigger, then a sly look at that langorous pose, wandering off towards his heaped coat-and-vest, nudging them with a toe, hands now propped in the small of his back* Of course... Scammers are the most difficult, least the really good ones... *He peeks over a shoulder, just for an instant...* ((Aiiiie! I keep forgetting to tell you... I was having lunch in a neat little diner when this spiffy-looking guy caught my eye... I thought he looked familiar, so I kept lookin' at him. *Is still amazed* When he got up to leave, I finally saw his full face... *Odd look* He looked just like -Beej-... He was wearing a floppy brown hat, though... *Grins*))

~~His tongue darts out to wet pale-rose lips, green lashes lazily lowered to a toddler's half-awake gaze, though he knows fully and well what is going on around him. His pose -for it is indeed, a careful positioning of his assets- alters a little, becomes more exotic, and yet infinately more reachable, his face not so raw and hungry as it had been before they left, but the sure twist of his thin mouth telling anyone who cares to look what he wants.~~ A'kin spot scamm'rs...mos' tim's. A'll le'rn. ~~The slight tilt of his head to indicate a nod, and an even bigger grin as he catches a glimpse of mist-grey eyes.~~ ((*blink* Wow! *grin* That's so cool! *laugh* I've never met anyone who really looked like I imagine my characters.))

Elvis:((Oh? The one's with his wife aren't at ALL like the Callahan's Crosstime Saloon books. Still good, and they've got a few puns and wordgames in them...but...not the same. *nodnod* What have you read by her? *Would highly recommend 'Drawing Blood' because she thinks the writing is wonderful and loves the characters, but realizes intense gore and sex are not for everyone.* *Bets an ORP novel WOULD get published.*))

((I know! I wanted to go ask him what his name was, but I's too shy... *Sigh* He had a nice nose.... So I just watched him eat his omelette, drink his coffee, and finish writing a letter... *Grins loopily for a moment, then settles back IC* It was kinda...scaryish, but mostly really cool...)) I thought so.... *He sublimates a sharp breath, half turning and taking a half-step forward, looking- seemingly inexplicably -at a far corner of the ceiling... Neets is too tempting, though, a hooded gaze darting back to him.... He knows, and he doesn't even have to -see- that rather inviting mouth quirked into that wanting look.... A single flicker of movement; hands forward and then back to his lumbar region, taking folds of indigo cloth with them... He might be a bird, the way the fabric falls...* 'Magine you will, Neets.... Kinda hard to stop you from doing so, since you'll be around.... *What a boring little conversation they're having.... But he's not giving an inch, yet...*

~~A bird? A hawk then, perched to strike, wings outstretched. No, no... scarred arms are still tucked close to his sides, a stark white line of skin bared just above the waist of those jeans he seemed so intent on dragging down another inch or so with his thumbs. My...that plain black t-shirt -was- a mite short, wasn't it? A cat then, getting back to animals, always a cat, hunting, stalking with luminescent eyes.~~ Kinda 'ard t'stop me an'way... ~~Still managing to maintain his 'I'm gorgeous, and I'm flaunting it just for you' look, he points one booted toe out, hooking the fabric as it falls and somehow tossing it back to be snapped from the air with a flick of his wrist.~~ Shou'n go drop'n yer clo's onna floor... ((*laugh* That's the neatest thing!*Is a hair person* *Likes long hair.* *Can't help it.*))

((Yeah... *Giggles at 'Reese* *Likes noses and hair and hands and-* *This would take all night and perhaps ruin her keyboard* *Refrains from drooling* *Decides that Beej could have taken his shirt off, even though he was merely going to frame his middle by pulling the fabric back* *Liked the post too much to ruin it with tweakage*)) Oh, like -you- don't...? *In keeping with the catty theme of the evening... He's just acting, though, hurtfulness has no place, no -rights- here....* I know.... *A shrug at his backwards answering, a slight arching of his back to crack the one or two vertebrae that will oblige, a hand brushing through his hair- taking the opportunity to take a measure of distances, attitudes and relationships, hand slipping down his face to cup his chin.... A faint thoughtfulness crosses his features, replaced soon enough by wickedness... Another pass of that searching gaze, and -all-, every single last -iota- of Beej's will keep him from reaching for that little stripe of skin...*

~~His only answer for a moment or two is a lifting of one mossy eyebrow, and then the sly twist of lips.~~ Only w'en a'got'a re's'n. ~~What -is- his game? Because after a brief, appraising stare at the flat expanse of skin he's danced fingers over so many times, he grins once more and walks... no... That's a sashay, the movement of those hips too refined, slinky, to be anything but. Sashaying it is, past the trader, managing inextricably to brush past him and fall in a graceless heap on the bed, a tangle of hair, sharp angles of bone and smooth skin, displayed for a private show as he begins unlacing the tops of his boots.~~ Y'com'n t'bed? ((*grins sheepishly* Erm...I kinda went with that, figuring the next move he might make was to drop it...*hides* Glad you liked the post though...))

Elvis:((I bet you'll like Trevor and Zach...and you'll be able to tell RIGHT off who I steal Neet's movements from...*weg* *laugh* There's a whole PAGE of them! *Has a fair idea as well...but neets is being surprising tonight...*snicker* *Considers that he's a seventeen year old male.* Alright...he's not gonna be THAT surprising... *shrug* If I get out of here by 3:30 I'll count it as a full night's sleep...*grin* I'm just glad you're BACK!))

((*Blinks* *Sniggers as her/Beej's plan to- well, never mind...* *Wicked grin* No problem... Gotta be flexible, y'know...)) *He sighs and shakes his head, looking faintly disappointed as that wiry little body plops onto the bed... We'd like to note that the disappointment quickly turns into filing his idea away for some other time as he ambles towards his lover, beloved, whichever; taking his sweet time...* No, I'm going to sleep on the floor and you'll just have to be deprived... *Delivered airily, actions proving as false as hen's teeth as he sits on the edge of the bed and takes over the unlacing of those heavy black boots* I bet my mother saw your boots.... *Holding one aloft* They aren't the daintiest of footgear, even if your feet are smaller than mine.... *He lets the boot in question fall to the floor with a clunk, lifting the now-bare foot and pressing lips against instep, his free hand fumbling at the laces of the other...*

~~Thin fingers curl around his knee, his smile still almost secretive.~~ S'okay...s'jus...nahhhh...nev'rmin'. ~~Delicate giggling results from the attention given his feet, giggling like the effervescent bubbles in champagne, light, there and gone again before you knew it.~~ Mebbe so...she din' say noth'n t'us tho'... ~~Malachite tresses mingle with chestnut as he leans his head to touch his lover's, snickering gently.~~ Know w'at'a wanna do som'ni't? You'n me shou'd go t'a club n'danc'...jus'...cause. ~~He seems to have lost his thread of 'I'm beautiful and you can't touch me' ...somewhere long about the time his foot was kissed, if such things are being recorded.~~ ((Awwww...what was his plan? *laugh*))

Elvis:((*weg* Must...get...characters...out...of...bed! *Struggles valiantly.* *snicker* *gigglegrin* *Wants to try this some night.* *Has been itching to talk about that stripe of skin roundabout Neets bellybutton for a couple days. Has no idea WHY.*))

((*Wicked grin, ducking her head* He was just gonna pick Neets up and...um...use the wall for balance.... )) *Such things are being recorded, but niether of them, no one on Earth [or wherever] has a clue.... Beej's willpower exhausted itself about the time Neets started walking towards him... He transferrs a fraction more of his attention on a stubborn knot in the second lace, only to discover that he's trying to untie a reknotted portion from a break.... He sighs at himself and pulls the leather object off the twin to the foot resting on his knee...* Maybe.... No, she didn't. Doesn't really matter, I'm keeping you anyhow. *A silly little smile at this, pausing in his sliding up of a pants leg* You think so? We could..... *Blinks, dropping the boot on the floor* I haven't danced in ages... Never very good to begin with... *He shrugs this off, moving just a little to press his lips against the mouth whose invitation he's no longer disregarding...**GONEIC**

((*Giggles* Yeah.... Maybe right before Beej gets nabbed... *Can see it now, they go out, drink too much, come back here and can't (be bothered to) get up stairs.... * *Thinks it'd be fun to play out from the last club they visit* *Is tired*))

~~So his shoes are as old and ratty as his jeans used to be, and he had to pretend he was a girl to meet his lover's parents...does he look like he cares? No. And yeah...maybe the honeymoon, so to speak, -does- have to end...but not tonight at least, not because of a disapproving mother, or a stubborn niggling that he didn't really -deserve- any of this. The the ninth hell with all of that, when he can have warm, moist lips against his own. And yes, his act has a place...but not now, when honesty is the only thing he can offer.~~ ~~GONE IC~~ ((*cackle* Oh REALLY? *weg* Mymy....*giggle*))

Elvis:((*nod* I agree! *grin* This'll be fuuuun! *grin* Oh...Neets is just gonna LOSE it when Beej is gone... *hug* *bouncebounce* Happy you're back! See you tomorrow in one form or another!))

((*Blushes* It was all Beej's idea! I swear! *Snigger* What a homecoming.... *Hug* You sleep well and I'll see you tomorrow.... *Grin* Funfun as usual.... *Is pleased to have a plot device that doesn't require -too- much more time...* *Is -HAPPY- to be home.* *nod*))

((Bye Elvis! *Waves and snickers* Pin him against the wall indeed...REALLY...that's not one of the church-approved positions! *giggle* Oooo...I AM tired...))