Nov 12 06:57:42 106 PA - Tails for Coffee
From Chronicles
Coventry Place - Maya's Apartment
Brady remains curious as to how the other side lives. Yep, that's as good an excuse as any, and has nothing whatsoever to do with his sharing of coffee with Tails. That it's her door he comes calling to is entirely coincidence. Maybe he can sell her a bridge or two while he's here, too. Her door is rapped with knuckles, complete with the shave and a haircut. After a moment, he remembers to toss in the two bits.
"Tails" is home, but she takes some time to answer the door, finally pulling it open. She is dressed in pink PJs, with little strawberries all over them, her hair loose around her shoulders, barefooted. Without makeup, she looks younger, sleepy eyed, as she stares at him for a moment. "Tiny?" She is almost checking that he is real, and then, she actually does so, reaching out to poke a finger into his chest.
"Howdy, Tails." Brady grins, looks over her nightclothes, and grins more. "Well, ain't you cute. I brought coffee, but maybe I should've brought a teddy, instead..." He's real, and teasing, but very, very amusedly so.
Maya's poke is hard and she narrows her eyes at him. "I think you are either a dream or a coffee withdrawal hallucination." She decides aloud, stepping back to let him in, provided he hands the coffee over. Her cheeks are sleep creased and flushed, and the grin she gives him is softened by the sleepiness. "I got off early, went to bed." She explains, ignoring the comments about her outfit with almost dignity.
Brady lifts a hand as he enters, offering up the tithe of one extra-large disposable cup full of java, care of the marketplace cafe'. "Maybe this'll fix the cravings, but I don't mind being a dream for you, Tails." A wink and then a chuckle. "Figured you just got home. Guess I figured wrong." Now that he's inside, he takes a gander about her newfangled, uppity place with the automatic coffee maker.
She closes the door behind them, slipping the lock on automatically, before she turns back towards the livingroom. A long swig of the coffee later, and she offers him a hug, one armed with a sleepy smile. "My feet are cold." The comment is a hint, the sleepiness fading a little in the face of the teasing invitation in her hazel eyes. "I'm going to be back under my covers if you want me." That said, she turns towards the bedroom.
"If?" His smirk is both corrective and mischevious, and Brady's boots take him right along after her. This particular side of her bedtime routine isn't one he's seen, and even the front was brand new a moment ago. "Let me know if they don't warm up, or anything else gets cold." Yes, there really is no 'if.'
Maya crawls up the length of her bed, kicking the cover down rather than entering from the side, and settling in the middle, the coffee in her hands. She sits there, legs crossed with the coffee cuddled between her hands. Once there, she watches him, her hazel eyes warm, laughing at him, despite the fact she is sitting there in PJs, hair mussled, covered in strawberries.
Brady takes in the bedroom as he takes off his duster, makings himself somewhat at home. "You know, you really need to get your friend healed up, or put out of his misery..." His grin is softer, now, but still very wry. "I think your bed's bigger than my whole room." The coat is draped over the nearest somewhat convenient object before he takes a seat on the side of the bed.
"My friend?" She questions, taking a sip of the coffee, watching him over the brim. "Oh Skelly?" She shrugs, her mouth curving into a grin, "We've been together a while. But he'll let you use his side of the bed." She moves over, reaching out to put the coffee down so she can nestle down into the covers. "I like room to move. Normal beds don't give you that..."
"That the one staying here on account of a woman leaving or the like?" Brady is now a touch confused on mixing what was said before with what was just. Not /too/ confused, though. "Well, long as he's nice enough to share, can't be too bad..." He slides himself up along the bed and shucks his boots in the process, so he can lounge himself alongside her, slightly propped up against the head.
"The one over there, hanging up." The corner of her mouth twitches. "Not sure where Seb is." She reaches out to his side of the bed, idling reaching to touch his back. Unfortunately the look is rather ruined by a yawn, smothered but there. "You didn't pull last night then?" The question is amused, with a complete lack of jealousy that might be unflattering.
Brady turns his head to her and reflexively arches a brow. Before he can ask her meaning, realization hits him and he shakes his head with a grin. "Didn't brew any coffee at my place, if that's what you're asking. Why I bought and brought." A hand lifts to motion to her cup, then conveniently settles onto the lump of her leg.
"Oh so you're just here because I'm better than nothing?" The tone is laughing and Maya doesn't seem to care, despite the words and she snuggles down a little more beneath the covers, drawing a pillow with her. "I'm shocked, you seemed onto a cert there." She yawns again, smothering it once more and shakes her head. "Up all night with stiff men and I can't stay awake."
"You're lots better than nothing," Brady smirks anew, and a chuckle follows, "and better the the somethings I can think of, too. I'm guessing you mean Freckles, and she's almost as ornery as you. Her way of getting me out of my clothes is getting me to bet them, then snookering me."
"Me? Ornery?" Maya pouts, but she doesn't hold it for long, her mouth twitching with laughter. "I think I'll just say, if you don't get your kit off, I'm going to be asleep..." With that, she rolls over, tugging covers with her as she snuggles deeper into the bed and, with one hand, reaches out to flip off the bedside light.
Brady looses a laugh with her feigned pout, and it grows louder when it relents. It then fades into a chuckle in the sudden darkness, accentuated by leather and iron softly hitting the floor. He can't let her feet get cold, now can he?
Maya doesn't even peek over her shoulder, and her breath slows and deepens even as his leathers and iron hit the floor. It may, or may not be true sleep but she does a good impression at the very least. The impression may be ruined by a muffled laugh but she covers it quickly, wiggling feet back to seek warm flesh.
He's trying to help her with the warm flesh part, and somewhat quickly. Her toes find some, too, since he's practical enough to work from the bottom up. The chuckle turns into a bit of a startled noise at just how cold her feet were against his leg. All the more excuse to settle the rest of him against her from the chill toes to her shoulders. "You ain't dozing off already, are you? Kind of thing might kill a man quick as lead." A bemused question to her ear.
"Me? Doze?" The murmur is sleepy, admittedly, and toes wiggle to find a grip on warm flesh, seeking to steal all of his heats. She stretches, wiggling back as she seeks more heat from warmer parts of the body. "Might show a man he is moving too slow and boring a girl." The reply is teasing, albeit with sleepiness woven between the words.
"Ornery. I think I can keep you awake a while longer, then..." To his credit, Brady's quick to pick up hints (and/or interperet them in the most optimistic manner). The slow disappears, and hopefully the boring. The cold should, too, with the switch to other tried and true methods of heating. Exercise, for one.
Exercise works well to warm a girl up, even one with cold feet. The night, or at least, the hours that should be sleeping time for a girl on the graveyard stiff fly past, until the midday sun lights the room around the curtains and Maya is finally asleep, PJs on the floor on the other side of the room. She sleeps in the middle of the "bed", curled up into a small ball, her face soft in sleep.
One more hail to divine creation of coffee. Brady dozes for a time, off and on, until the need to get on with the day (and let the poor girl sleep, of course) forces him to sit up. Then there's the matter of finding everything. Once he moves away from her to search, he makes sure she's bundled up and not flapping in the breeze.
She moves instinctively to take all of the covers and wrap them around herself, burrowing into the bed with a small noise of protest. The sunlight is rude, intrusive, and she pulls the covers over her head, hiding from the day. "Mmpf..." An arm thrown over her head and she settles once more.
Brady looses a soft chuckle at her antics while putting his kit back together and on. "Need a pot put on for later?" A soft question, and one answered even if she doesn't stay awake to do so.
Maya makes a tiny noise, neither of protest or agreement, almost entirely vanished beneath the covers. Falling deeper into sleep, she rolls onto her back, one arm flung over her head, the covers now in a heap on top of her.
"Sounds like I better." His chuckle is louder this time, and he rises off the bed to head for the sanctified relic. At least his steps aren't loud, since his boots are still off.
Maya does not respond, flat out, her arm flung over her face as he heads towards the wonderful coffee machine. Her body is relaxed, and as the heat in the apartment works, she kicks off the covers in her sleep, letting them fall to the floor.
Brady misses the lack of covers, at first, but his PhD in java production means it doesn't take him long before he returns. Now his steps pause so that he can take in the view. Definitely better than nothing, and something, too. He fails to withold a low whistle of appreciation.
Maya isn't woken by the whistle, but the sunlight beaming into the bedroom doesn't help, and she stirs. Not much, but enough for the other arm to go over her face, hiding from the evil day star. "Umpfh...." The definitive statement.
Maya was warmed, Brady is smiling, the sun is shinging, the coffee's brewing... All that's left is for him to reclaim his boots, coat, and hat. Well, almost. After getting on his boots and grabbing the rest, he leans down to plant a kiss on a spot of cheek of forehead not blocked in the attempt to turn off the sun. "Sleep tight, Tails." Now he can don his duster and affix his hat as he moseys to the door and out.
