[Some mental maths, to try to work out what that would be in actual physical space. It's disappointing that they look more broomsticky than club-y, but. Beggars, choosers, et cetera.]
Got a nice end bit, don't they. You could hack at the shins with that. Yeah, all right, I'd try it. It can't be any worse than the others.
[He doesn't put an arm around her, but he doesn't shrug her away either. Just-- sits beside her. Which might seem a little backwards, or slow, since they've already had makeup comfort sex but, whatever.]
[She doesn't seem bothered by the lack of affection. If anything, maybe she's comforted by the fact that she hasn't been thrown out, that they're talking about this stupid thing, that they're just-
[WOW his mouth drops open in clear and exaggerated shock.]
Sorry, what? Is there someone else here that you were directing that toward? And I doubt you lived in a tin-roof shack, Miss Violin-and-Maths Prodigy, so I'll thank you to watch what you're saying.
[Almost said watch how you speak to me which would have sounded very rich-and-stuck-up so. Good job not saying that, Sirius.]
[It's a very cute expression, and a very cute kiss. Sort of unfair, really. And while Sirius can be sensitive about money--the rejection of both family gold and family name--he can, given the right circumstances and the right people, laugh at it all. He laughs now, too amused to be properly upset.]
Ah, well, sorry to disappoint you, Miss Gold Digger, but I've been cut off from all that old money. You won't get very far with me. Might try my brother, though I don't know that you're his type.
Do you mean crazy, blonde, or not magical? Because I can dye my hair.
[Maybe that's good, making jokes about surviving the next Jump, if there is such a thing as a next Jump. And maybe it's good she's smiling, and he's smiling, because it lightens her face, it makes her seem a little less exhausted.]
More the fact that you're a muggle, but-- if you wanted to try dying your hair to see if you could distract him...
[He shrugs. This is all so conversation for the sake of conversation, stupid jokes about people she doesn't know and won't meet. It doesn't matter. It's fun.]
He likes brunettes, mostly, when he can get them. But I think you should stay blonde.
[He agrees, vaguely, with his eyes shut--but after a second, he shifts forward so he can grab at the hem of his t-shirt, tug it off over her head, and hold it out to her.]
[She takes his shirt and smiles a little, pleased, and takes her own off, unbuttoning it, then undoes her bra, before she slips his shirt on and her bra comes down as she wrestles with it, and hands it to him.
And then her trousers, so all she's wearing is his shirt and her panties.]
[He takes it, without blinking, though he's watching the rest of her movements with great interest. The words get a grin out of him and he holds up the bra by the straps, and lays it flat across his bare chest.]
That, and the colour doesn't suit me. Right? Totally wrong.
You're a winter. Pink polka dots don't do it for you.
[Although it's a little faded, she hopes that some point soon the ship brings her new bras, which is an odd thought to have as she moves closer to him again, tugging him down so they're laying side by side, and she has her hands on his wrist.]
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They're long. Five feet, maybe? Four? I clearly don't play hockey.
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Got a nice end bit, don't they. You could hack at the shins with that. Yeah, all right, I'd try it. It can't be any worse than the others.
I mean, not when there's golf.
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[She nudges up a bit closer, so she's against his side.]
I think you'd like rugby, too, but I don't know how it works, only that people slam into each other a lot.
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[He doesn't put an arm around her, but he doesn't shrug her away either. Just-- sits beside her. Which might seem a little backwards, or slow, since they've already had makeup comfort sex but, whatever.]
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[She doesn't seem bothered by the lack of affection. If anything, maybe she's comforted by the fact that she hasn't been thrown out, that they're talking about this stupid thing, that they're just-
Together.
It's nice.]
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[A little disappointed, honestly; the violence made that one sound promising.]
See, that's the problem with muggle games. There's no interesting feature to them, they all end up being 'blokes running in a field'.
[Idly, he reaches over to smudge his thumb through the downswoop of the n in on.]
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Well, it's not like we can fly. There's polo, but you have to be pretty rich and stuck up for polo on horseback.
You know, people like you.
[She wrinkles her nose up, and smiles a little, so he knows she's teasing.]
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Sorry, what? Is there someone else here that you were directing that toward? And I doubt you lived in a tin-roof shack, Miss Violin-and-Maths Prodigy, so I'll thank you to watch what you're saying.
[Almost said watch how you speak to me which would have sounded very rich-and-stuck-up so. Good job not saying that, Sirius.]
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And I went to a very expensive school. I can smell old money from a mile away, and you, sir, are the oldest money there is.
[She twists her mouth, it's very cute, and she turns and presses it against Sirius', just like that.]
Maybe I'm a gold digger.[She adds that, a minute later, looking very self-satisfied.]
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[It's a very cute expression, and a very cute kiss. Sort of unfair, really. And while Sirius can be sensitive about money--the rejection of both family gold and family name--he can, given the right circumstances and the right people, laugh at it all. He laughs now, too amused to be properly upset.]
Ah, well, sorry to disappoint you, Miss Gold Digger, but I've been cut off from all that old money. You won't get very far with me. Might try my brother, though I don't know that you're his type.
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[Maybe that's good, making jokes about surviving the next Jump, if there is such a thing as a next Jump. And maybe it's good she's smiling, and he's smiling, because it lightens her face, it makes her seem a little less exhausted.]
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[He shrugs. This is all so conversation for the sake of conversation, stupid jokes about people she doesn't know and won't meet. It doesn't matter. It's fun.]
He likes brunettes, mostly, when he can get them. But I think you should stay blonde.
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I bet I'm too pretty for him.
[And another wrinkle of her nose. Joking.]
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You are.
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Well, then better for me I'll never meet him.
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[And he leans over to nudge at her with his shoulder, teasing.]
Hang on, did you trick that out of me? You did, didn't you. That was a set-up.
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[But he got her smiling, really smiling, so she doesn't seem to be complaining in the least about it.]
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[With a sigh, he tips his head back, lets it loll against the wall behind them.]
Oh well. Too late for me now. Think I'll just fall asleep.
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If you do, I'm staying.
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Without an invitation? Scandalous.
[It's not a 'no', though.]
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I am scandalous I guess. I'll just wear one of your shirts.
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[He agrees, vaguely, with his eyes shut--but after a second, he shifts forward so he can grab at the hem of his t-shirt, tug it off over her head, and hold it out to her.]
I like scandalous.
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And then her trousers, so all she's wearing is his shirt and her panties.]
Don't wear my bra. You'll stretch it out.
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That, and the colour doesn't suit me. Right? Totally wrong.
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[Although it's a little faded, she hopes that some point soon the ship brings her new bras, which is an odd thought to have as she moves closer to him again, tugging him down so they're laying side by side, and she has her hands on his wrist.]
I'll get you a nice blue one.
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