Indiana Darling

## Gauze

"Shhh," reminds Jackson.

Book, bouncing on toes, nods.

Baby snuffles.

Jackson quickly twists the doorknob, returns both hands to the tray, nudges open the door.

"Mummy!" cheers Book--

Baby squalls.

--hurtles around Jackson's legs into the dim room.

Charlie grunts, pushes herself up to sitting.

Jackson kisses Baby's head.

Book scrambles onto the bed, onto Charlie.

Jackson puts the tray down on the beside table. "How're you doing?" he asks, adjusting the pillows.

Charlie glowers, smoothing Book's hair.

"Stupid question. How's the gauze?"

Charlie opens her mouth.

Jackson holds Baby's head, peers in. "Still pretty bloody." Grabs a tissue, offers it.

Charlie pulls out the wad, drops it in his hand.

"Here you are." Jackson hands over a new square.

Charlie stuffs it in, leans back.

"I have pulverized soup, antibiotics, painkillers, and room temperature ginger ale."

Charlie pats his arm.

"One cup of soup, coming right up."

"Hassa toof fairy come?" asks Book.

Charlie looks at Jackson.

Jackson feels around under her pillow. "Not yet."

Book pouts. "Toof fairy's late."

19
--

Turtles compliant; Inspired by OTPPrompts

Jackson watches the screen wistfully.

Charlie shakes her head as she adjusts a fresh ice pack under Jackson's leg.

"Okay, I know it's a bad idea ...."

Charlie scoffs.

"And I know if I had one it would just be a somehow future-y version of this ...."

"You don't say."

"But I kinda sorta want a hoverboard."

A lukewarm gel pack splats against the side of his head.

Tags: Back to the Future (reference), Jackson sucks at tools

## Super

 Initiating author
 Inspired by

"Darling," grumbles Charlie into the landline, setting down the vegetable knife and tomato.

""Uh, hi, again,"" says Jones from Three-B.

Charlie sighs internally. "What did you break this time?"

Jones meeps, takes a deep breath. ""I, uh, the crank thingie on the window? It was rattling a little so I tried to tighten it and it kinda, maaaaybe broke off? And now I can't close the window? And it's cold?""

Charlie /**does** sigh.

Jones whimpers.

"I'll be up in five minutes."

""Tha—""

Charlie hangs up, dumps the tomato back in the fridge, puts the knife in the sink. She grabs her tools from beside the door, stomps through the stairwell door and up to the third floor.

Jones opens the door at her first /*bang*.

Charlie shoves past, stomps across the flat—

Jones flutters after her. "I'm sooooo sorry about this—"

—stops in front of the window, presses her mouth into a thin line—

"—I /**really** suck at tools, but I—"

Charlie whirls on him. "How did you strip this?" she demands, pointing to the exposed part of the mechanism.

"Strip?" Jones, inexplicably, turns bright pink. "I-I just twisted it."

"Well, you broke it." Snaps a turn. "And I can't fix it until I can buy a new assembly tomorrow."

"Sooo ... it's stuck open?"

"Yep."

"On the coldest day so far this year?"

"Yep."

Jones whines.

"I'll be back in the morning." Charlie pushes past him, out the door, closes it behind.

""See you then!"" calls Jones.

Charlie rolls her eyes, heads for the stairs.

Pietr pops out the stairwell door, waves.

Charlie breaks out in a smile. ::Hi, boss!::

.::Told you not to call me that.:: Pietr flicks his eyes over Charlie's shoulder. ::Him again?::

Charlie huffs. ::I'm starting to think he's doing it on purpose.::

Pietr snorks.

Charlie raises an eyebrow.

::Nothing, nothing,:: waves Pietr.

### Duper

"Darling," snaps Charlie.

""Hi,"" Jones greets sheepishly. ""It's me.""

Charlie rolls her eyes. "What did you break this time?"

""The closet,"" Jones replies mournfully. ""The handle fell off.""

Charlie grabs her toolkit. "Be there in a minute."

""Thank youuu!""

.

"It's a pretty tiny closet," Jones admits-- "I can make more room!" He squeezes by, grabs an armful of coats, squeezes by again.

Charlie kneels inside the door, starts on the handle.

"'scuse me."

Charlie tucks her toolkit out of his way.

The door slams shut.

Jackson shrieks, drops a box of Lego.

## Bakery

Setting: Bakery >yup!<

Genre: Hurt/Comfort >started but didn't get very far into it; there would be Jackson holding Wash had I the words<

Trope: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics >covered with smells and people smelling good to each other--and I just remembered that I brought A/B/O dynamics into the 'verse through Blue exposure (Wash mentally grumbles about it) and if I continue this, Lightcap'll greet them at the door worrying about Wash and her walking along, potentially unable to defend herself. Never figured out who was what, though, and I don't know if I particularly care<

Prompt: Gentleness (tenderness; kindness; concern; gentle natures; characters who display sensitivity, etc; gentle responses at unexpected moments) >'gentle responses at unexpected moments' was the big word-bestower, hopefully some of the others made it in, too<

Kink: Slow and/or prolonged sex >didn't get this far<

Wash scurries back to the lab with breakfast from the kitchens' bakery and runs into Jones.

"You, uh, smell nice," he says, then swallows, eyes dark.

"It's the food," mumbles Wash.

He nods absently. "Right."

Wash resumes scurrying--

Jones touches--

Wash flinches.

--her arm. "May I walk you back to the lab?"

Wash deliberately steps out of reach, but scurries a little less hurriedly.

## Merry

Setting: Fairground

Genre:undefined

Trope: Angels and Demons

Prompt: Families, friends, or others think the characters are involved when they're really not

Kink: Rope Bondage

Wash lands on one of the Jungle Run's support pillars with nary a flutter.

"Little help? Please?"

Wash slides to sitting, considers him.

"This was a terrible idea and I should've listened to your accurate assessment of my abilities."

She smugs, sets to freeing Jackson from the rope crawl.

"You guys wanna get a room or something?" calls Juliet.

Jackson squawks, free falls into the ballpit.

## The Big Decision

In her peripheral, Charlie notices Jackson enter the sitting room. She also notices that he doesn't move any further.

She raises an eyebrow.

Jackson takes a deep breath. "I ... I think I have to do it."

Charlie closes her textbook.

"I ..." Jackson swallows. "I wish to lodge a complaint against--" Dep breath. "--against the upholstery."

Charlie giggles.

Jackson looks like he may cry.

Charlie laughs.

Jackson caresses the corner of the armrest.

Charlie laughs herself off the couch.

## Indiana Darling Reads Stephanie Plum

Jackson flops down beside Charlie on their bed, burritos himself appropriate, pokes his head out onto his pillow. "Smiling about anything in particular?"

Charlie rolls over, grinning. "How much explosive it would take to flip a full garbage truck over onto a Porshe."

They giggle.

(Evanovich, Jane. "High Five".)

## Broken People

OTPPrompts

Imagine Person A of your OTP finding Person B as a broken person; scarred and tormented by their past and what they have done. Imagine A slowly putting B’s broken parts back together, but in the process, cutting themselves ~~so much they become broken themselves~~.

### Jackson puts Wash back together again

Two Ranger Elite stride into the cafe. One of them's missing a chunk from her side, her chest and hip joined by thick belts from armoured plate to armoured plate.

Jackson says, "If you swap out that T-14 for an N-90, the boost to your system will--"

"I know, thanks."

"It'll really help--"

She rounds on him, unfurling and eyes blazing. 'Back. Off."

Jackson retreats. "I'm very sorry, Rangers."

"It's fine." Gears and cogs whirl her insides back into place.

.

She shows up at his window that night, landing on the sill with only the sound of her wings whispering as they sheath themselves. "D'you know what you're doing?"

"I may have presented myself as more knowledgable than I actually am."

She rolls her eyes; the [systems] in her chest brace themselves for launch.

"Which is to say I can craft the parts but I am totally useless when it comes to tool use. Worse than useless, actually, I tend to, well, accidents."

That may be a laugh, and she ducks inside.

"Right. Parts. Crafting parts."

"Don't you need to know which ones?"

"That would be smart."

She starts on one of the belts--

"Noo!!" Jackson lunges, changes direction for the armoire, pulls out a sheet, leaps for the easy chair, covers it. "Tada!"

She raises an eyebrow.

"In case anything falls off."

She concedes, strides across the room (her left leg 'tings' with every step), folds herself into the chair.

A chunk's missing from a calf, too.

Belts undone, she opens her armour, and then presses her thumb to her collar. A moment later, her breastplate loosens and she puts it in her lap.

"Is that one of those pressure combinations?"

She smugs.

"That is so cool--how do you have a pressure combination lock--I don't even think they're on the market, yet. And with springs from an A-1887?"

"Salvage," she replies.

"Salvage?"

"I smash one up, take what I can." Uncrosses a leg. "I got a plantar unit, too." Her foot folds itself into something three-toed and meant for oft-shifting terrain and then back again.

"Why do you smash them up?"

"That's my job."

"Awesome." Scans the missing pieces of her diaphragm. "So--if you don't mind me asking--why aren't you going to the Corps for this?"

The lustre of her skin dims. "I don't like--" Frowns, tries again: "They put us to sleep for maintenance. I don't--I can't tell, always, what they've done, so ...."

Jackson nods--

A section of circulatorium, stitched in carefully with gentle hands.

"What's this?" He brushes--

The cogwork hisses--

Jackson snatches--

"Don't."

"Sorry."

She looks away. "It's my copilot's. We, uh--" Rubs her neck. "--swap. She has the patch that's missing."

"That's really cool."

The cogwork hums.

"Alright--paper." He hops to his desk, grabs a pad. "Paper!"

"Pencil?"

"Pencil would be good." Grabs one from the cup, skips back over. "Let's see."

They work out a list in short order.

"I have some of those handy, actually." Jackson returns to his desk, rifles through. "Here they are."

"You're going to have to put them in," she says, twisting around.

"This could end badly."

She huffs.

The old gears come free easily--almost /too easily--

"I popped them out."

"Just now?"

"Yea."

"Phew." Slots--"Ow!" Examines his bleeding finger, pouts, sticks it in his mouth with whine.

"You should actually clean it."

Jackson makes a mournful sound, drags himself to the washroom.

A wad of toilet paper and some disinfectant and a bandage later, Jackson grins, slotting in the new gears. "As I said, 'accidents'. How's that?"

The system whirls--whines.

"Backwards."

"Jackson the Useless at al things mechanic, at your service. Clicks in the last one. "How's that?"

The system whirls and glows.

"Perfect."

"Awesome." Stands. "That's all I can do tonight, but I can get most--if not all--the rest tomorrow. You can stay here, we can meet for dinner tomorrow ...."

Stretches. "Got the next three days off." Smiles sleepily.

"You can have my bed--"

She shakes her head. "Sleep here." Curls back up. "Don't get sore."

"Kinda jealous." Looks around awkwardly. "Power's yours, if you need it."

She nods.

"Anything else?"

Shakes her head. "But thanks."

"You're welcome."

"Night."

"Night!"

Tags: AU, Turtles parallels (Jackson putting a small part of a machine on backwards), Sabine (mention), This PPDC isn't good people (potentially), Jackson sucks at tools

## Indiana Darling plays DA:I

Charlie makes an annoyed noise.

"Found another door?" asks Jackson, sitting on the couch with their tea.

Charlie furiously erases part of the grid paper map balanced on her knee.

"People've already made plenty of maps of Skyhold."

"They're terrible," snaps Charlie, scrawling in a new set of hallways.

(This shmoo plays Dragon Age: Inquisition and is freaking amazed at how ridiculously huge and complex the main hub map is.)

## Transifguration

(working title)

"Snake."

And that is a thin, forked tongue in his mouth.

Charlie pulls away smugly, works her jaw, opens her eyes, the slash of her pupil pooling back to human. "Cat."

Jackson pulls her around, pushes her up against the tank, kisses her, tail twining around her knee, purring low in his throat.

She giggles.

"Angel."

Charlie has a fistful of his jumper and she's pushing them off the ground, across the lab for two, massive wing beats and onto a table, cushioned by reams of notes. He's on his back and she's on his hips with a hand in his hair and's kissing him and he's up er shirt, scratching her back, feathers of a hundred thousand different colours whispering by his hands.

His hips jerk and his heels slip for purchase--a /pinch--

Her eyes glint in the half light of their coccoon. "I'm not done yet."

He whimpers.

She smirks and gets a hand between his legs and presses a kiss that burns like fire to his jaw.

"You know I'm going to be absolutely useless in the dick department for the next three hours if you keep that up."

She sits back. "Good point."

"Piiiick!" he whines.

"I'm thinking!" Sways a bit--rocks her hips a bit--smiles an evil smile, leans down, whispers, "Lyrebird."

"You /[brat]!" Jackson throws them over--

Charlie squeaks, grabs him tightly, wings flexing and fanning and smashing something formerly important.

--onto the floor, sits firmly across her hips, says in her voice, "Jackson is the cutest, most wonderful super--"

"/You [brat]!" she laughs, dumping him on his back. Her braid coils beside his head as their noses almost touch. "Pick."

"Dragon."

Her pupils narrow and she's suddenly a /lot heavier, armour sliding across her arms and chest and Jackson may have made a slight miscalculation in naming a gigantic, gold-plated reptile when he's on the bottom.

TBC

Setting: Laboratory

Genre: Plot What Plot: there's a tiny miniscule bit of plot

Trope: Superheroes/Superpowers: they're shapeshifters...?

Prompt: Masquerade (a character pretends to be someone else, or something they're not): partial shapeshifting

Kink: Orgasm Delay/Denial: yup

## Painting in Concert

From Prompt Generator

Setting: Concert Hall

Genre: Mystery (they're investigating something so it's sorta covered)

Trope: Friends to Lovers (didn't quite get to this)

Prompt: Body-painting or inkbrushing on someone's skin

.

Day seven of the case and no luck to be had, and it was raining cold.

"My building's just this way," says Jackson.

Charlie nods, obviously frustrated, obviously tired.

"Up we go." As they take the dingy elevator to the top floor. "And this is my room." Lets them into a room at the end of the hall. "It's small and occasionally drippy, but the location /more than makes up for it. C'mon." He forces open a window, gestures her out onto the fire escape, and then clambers up to the roof and across to a massive, domed structure.

"Is this that old concert hall?"

Jackson springs a door. "Yup!"

Charlie ducks through into a space near the rafters with an amazing view of the old stage and seats. "This is nice."

"Isn't it?" Jackson strolls to the edge, looks out over the hall.

Charlie looks around, spots some art supplies. "This stuff yours?"

"Yea, I like to come up here to paint." Grins. "Pretty inspirational, being on top of the world like this." Loses focus.

Charlie wanders around some.

"Someone should paint you," says Jackson.

Charlie queries.

"Like sit for a painting. Or just paint you." Ponders. "I could do that. I have some body paint left over."

"You want to paint me."

"Are you kid--I would /love to paint you. Or paint you. Either or, all or nothing--no, wait--"

"You can paint me."

"Awesome! Paint you or paint you-paint you--"

And Charlie's hung up her coat and's pulling off her jumper.

"Paint-you-paint you it is!"

## I'm a Potato

"Why do you get the cool shoes?" whines Jackson.

Charlie smirks.

.

"Then the blue on that panel," explains Jackson.

Charlie nods, hefts her potal gun.

Jackson stands. "You don't talk much, do you?"

Charlie makes as if to speak, stops.

"How long'be you been down here?"

Charlie raises an eyebrow.

Jackson ducks his head. "Stupid question." Rearranges his feet. "What's the last thing you remember about the outside?"

Charlie thinks for a moment, does a fluttery thing with her hand, heads off.

.

They've reached the 50s-era facilities and Charlie taps a display.

Jackson tilts his head.

Charlie taps hers, taps the display.

"The Cold War? You remember that? The picture or the actual event?"

Charlie holds up two fingers.

"That was over two hundred years ago!" Jackson squawks--"Shit, sorry--"

Charlie's eyes bug and she looks like she may throw up and then she flees.

"No, wait, Charlie! Come back!"

.

Jackson finds her in one of the 60s facilities, hiding in the corpse of a massive pipe. "I really should'be thought twice about blurting out about everything you've ever known being gone--"

Charlie squeaks covers her mouth.

"And clearly I continue to be an idiot." Jackson rests his head against the metal. "I'm sorry."

Charlie takes a deep breath, nods, stands, gestures for them to get going.

"Onward," Jackson agrees.

They start walking.

Charlie smacks him with her portal gun--

Jackson helps, jumps, then rubs the spot. "I deserved that."

Charlie huffs.

"On the plus side, you look really good for being over two hundred."

[.

"You'd think you'd be better at this after two hundred years."

"Wasn't--" Charlie waves her portal gun.

"Right, good point. You'd look more like those guys down in that 90s lab."

Charlie nods, sighing, 'yea, probably'. Then pushes him into the reactor runoff.

.

Jackson shakes off the Ressurector static, tromps over to Charlie.

She sits with her legs hanging off the platform, swinging them idly.

"So," Plunks down beside her. "I totally deserved that, and I'll probably deserve the next one, but would you mind making me go via turret? The sludge tastes nasty."

Charlie gives him a thumbs up.

.

And, of course, it occurred to me this morning that a Chell!Charlie and Ratman!Jackson could possibly work.

Charlie opens her eyes.

White.

She lifts a heavy arm, touches cool, smooth, and hard.

She pushes.

White lifts away.

[1]

Charlie sits up.

A white, oval, soft thing.

Rusty stains on the floor.

A thingy making noise.

A hazy orange circle thing fizzing.

Charlie tucks her legs close, manages to stand, to step from oval thing--the bed.

(Or is it a pod?)

The thingy--the radio--keeps making noise.

Follows the rusty stains--

A thingy on the floor looking heavy.

An arm cannon?

A portal gun.

Charlie huffs.

Here we go again.

Charlie hefts the portal gun, opens a blue wormhole over the rusty stains and follows them from the room. [2]

The orange portal slurps shut.

Charlie clicks--?

White on her feet.

Whatever.

Charlie clicks down the hall.

Another orange portal.

Charlie opens a blue portal, steps through.

Another oval bed-pod-thing.

The rusty stains are halfway along the pod, so Charlie wipes away the cold haze--the frost--from the cool, smooth, and hard--glass, possibly.

Torn clothing and smooth skin.

Right. Relaxation chamber.

Wipes away the frost at face-level.

Feet.

Charlie makes a sound and wipes away the frost at the other end.

Pretty person inside.

.

[1] Welcome announcement

[2] Check where the first portal goes in the first game]

## Don't Starve

Charlie's email pings.

It's from one of those video game interfaces Jackson uses.

CptnJEJones has sent you a gift: Don't Starve Together

PS Pls subscribe to this mod after you install the game.

Charlie checks her workload, figures she can spare five minutes.

As the platform downloads, she checks out the so-called 'modification'.

Mods by CptnJEJones

JACKSON (Hunger: 200 | Sanity: 100 | Health: 150). Starts off with ready-to-build structures. Good at building traps and walks fast.

CHARLIE (Hunger: 150 | Sanity: 150 | Health: 200). Knows a lots and has a friendly crocodile that bites stuff.

Charlie smiles into her hoodie.

## Send me a ღ and I’ll fill this out about a ship

* Who’s the first to wake up in the morning: Charlie
* Who’s the one to make breakfast: Charlie
* Who’s the one to serve the other breakfast in bed: Jackson
* Who would suggest a quickie in the morning before work: depends
* Who suggests they both ditch work to lay around all day: Jackson
* Who chooses the movies: Charlie & Jackson (Jackson picks a selection, Charlie chooses)
* Who initiates kissing during the moving, thus distracting the other from the movie all together: depends
* Who orders lunch: Jackson (Charlie would pick something too nutritious)
* Who steals food from the other’s plate without asking: Charlie (I think)
* Who curls up next to the other and falls asleep due to a full tummy: Charlie
* Who distracts the other from trying to work at home: Jackson
* Who asks to go get ice cream like a five year old: Jackson
* Who takes pictures of their partner eating ice cream: Jackson
* Who makes a sexual joke about the dripping ice cream on their partner’s face:
* Who cooks dinner: Charlie
* Who cleans up the kitchen afterwards: Jackson
* Who stays up until 2 reading: Charlie
* Who stares at their partner while their sleeping: Charlie
* Who kisses their partner while they sleep: Charlie

## StarWars!AU

Imagine your OTP as Han Solo and Princess Leia.

* Jackson’s Han Solo wouldn’t exactly be as ‘cool’ as the original XD

HOWEVER, if we take that role-swapped version with Leia Skywalker and Prince Luke Organa, Charlie would make a /fantastic Han Solo.

HOWEVER, there was a Tumblr post I can't find right now that pointed out Mr Solo wasn't quite as 'cool' as we remember him as. For example, he charges into a firefight only to immediately retreat like panicked kid when he realizes he's outnumbered, flails his way through that Stormtrooper impression while they're getting Leia out of the cells before muffing it so badly he shoots out the radio, and cheers like a total nerd when he saves the day.

Leia, on the other hand, only loses her cool to be angry at someone who's being stupid, grabs a blaster and lays covering fire like a pro, charms her way into membership of a tribe of alien species which tries to EAT Han, chokes to death the giant gang boss of an entire planet wearing an uncomfortable bikini, and is generally a total badass.

I hadn't considered that perspective! (I was thinking of my dad's description, "Han Solo doesn't think he's all that [capable] but actually is; Indiana Jones thinks he's very capable but actually isn't." So I appear to be conflating the two.

.

"We're here to rescue you," says Chuck.

"Thank you," says the princess with a genuine smile. She slips him out of the cell. "Let's go."

"That's it?" demands Jackson.

"You sure took your time."

Jackson splutters.

The princess rolls her eyes, takes the blaster out of his hands, and heads down the hall. "This way."

.

EXACTLY.

Picture Logan as Chewbacca.

.

Hmmm, I'm not sure if Logan's kind enough to be Chewbacca.

.

Ooo. Very, very good point there. I was only thinking of Chewie in 'I'm going to remove your arms' mode and overlooking the rest.

.

Either Chewbacca stays the same or we cast Mrs Jayne!Nanny which is a hilarious image.

So I think I know how this works:

* the character of Luke is split up between Mako and Chuck; Mako has the father/mentor part, Chuck has the father/sibling part (which means this is a 'verse where Kirra is a Hansen).

* Vader and Palpatine's characters are split up between Stacker and Herc and they're more equals
	+ Obi-Wan is Tamsin, Qui-Gon Jinn is Luna
		- Tamsin stashed infant Chuck and infant Mako (daughter of a lightsaber crystal expert) with Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru
* Cheung, Jin, and Hu are droids?
* taller Sasha is Chewie?

Star Wars!AU

Tags: Star Wars (reference)

## ok but ask yourself this about your otp

* which one hogs the blanket: Jackson
* which one cuts the other’s hair: Charlie cuts Jackson's
* which one makes coffee for the other on the morning: Charlie
* which one picks up the pizza: Jackson
* which one likes their music on full volume
* which one complains about the woodsies on the bed: Jackson, definitely
* which one is ticklish: Charlie
* which one sings and which one plays the music: Jackson sings but not particularly well; instruments may as well be tools XD. Charlie has a lovely singing voice (caught a glimpse of her singing to Book) but she keeps that card close to her chest, and she played percussion in school.
* ***which one proposes: Jackson***

## Payment

[http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/130343242615/person-a-was-hired-to-kill-person-b-but-ends-up

 Initiating author
 Inspired by

]

"Shut up. Or I /**will** gag you again."

"Shutting up," chirps Jones.

Charlie rolls her eyes, directs her full attention to the door.

It slams open—Charlie coldcocks the someone charging in; they drop like a sandbag.

"Who was that?"

Charlie nudges them with a booted foot. "My former employer."

"Did you just kill them?" Jones meeps.

Charlie scoffs.

"Okay, good. Much relieved."

"Shut. up."

"Sorry, kinda freaking out here."

Charlie tilts her head. "Why?"

"I dunno, maybe because this looks like the set of a slasher flick and I'm tied to a chair?"

She concedes.

"Why am I tied to a chair?"

"Because someone paid me to get you out of the way."

Jones squeaks, "You kidnapped me!"

"Nothing personal," says Charlie.

"You /**kidnapped** me!"

Charlie crosses her arms. "I was /**supposed** to kill you."

"You were /**what**?!"

She shrugs. "Someone wants you dead. Something about sending your brother a message."

Jones makes a frustrated noise. "Of course this is about my brother." Mumbles, "Wonder who he pissed off this time ...."

"That guy." Charlie jerks a thumb toward the prone body.

"Oh. Right." Deep breath. "So ... think you could untie me now?"

"What's my guarantee you won't attack me the instant I do?"

Jones rolls his eyes. "The fact I don't wanna die?"

Charlie snorts, works on the knots.

The cords fall away.

Jones pushes to his feet, rubbing his wrists. "Uh, thanks. Hopefully, I'll never see you again." Freezes, makes a placating gesture. "No offence."

"None taken." She twists her braid. "Let me buy you dinner. For not attacking me."

Jones blinks rapidly. "You're asking me out?"

Charlie shrugs.

"You /**kidnapped** me!"

"So? It wasn't personal."

"You /**still** /**kidnapped** me!"

"And now I want to buy you dinner."

"What part of 'you kidnapped me' sounds like 'yes, I would enjoy your company at dinner' to you?"

"The part where you don't wanna die." Charlie grins, all teeth.

Jones swallows. "Forgive me, I had somehow forgotten about that." Offers an arm. "Shall we?"

Charlie links hers. "We shall."